


On A Different Note

by bell0na



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: - and i didnt realize that until i rewatched it last night, AU Undertale, Inspired By Undertale, Multi, Music, Music AU, Not Beta Read, Original Characters - Freeform, Other, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Sorta? A lot of it is the same except monsters really dig music, Underband, Undertale AU, Undertale Pacifist Route, inspired by one instagram animation post i saw but CAN NO LONGER FIND, it really takes after the movie -, like dancetale but less.. sad, once I do find it it's going in the notes though cause it inspired a heck ton of words, probably some ecto-sex later i havent decided yet, scott pilgrim vs the world inspired, we'll see where the story takes me!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-04-05 06:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 69,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19043221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bell0na/pseuds/bell0na
Summary: You run a little music shop in the town of Ebott - yes, a town in the shadow of that particular Mt. Ebott where monsters first appeared. It has been eight years since monsters first came to the surface, and Ebott Town is as welcoming as ever. How could it not be when all these new monsters want to do is see the sun, see the stars, and play some music?It's a day like any other when two skeletal monsters walk into the music shop you and your father maintain - the shorter needs his bass repaired. Cue laughter, puns, shop kitties, and the start to an epic adventure as you meet the gang and help them on a journey to get their little band into a big Battle of the Bands that will end with the winner scoring a great record deal. Frisk needs encouragement, Undyne is enthusiastic, Papyrus kills it on percussion, and Alphys supports behind the scenes as the sound tech.Updates bi-weekly, hopefully. I work theater and I'm in college, so gods only know.





	1. Chapter One

     “Aw, cmon kitty. Not again.”

     Your keys rattle while you shove them in your pocket, leaning on the door to your family’s music store to close it with a _click_. It’s a good-sized store, rows of guitars lining one wall, a few drum kits, smaller instruments like ukuleles and mandolins on stands that sorta float in the middle of the main room. Your father’s luthier shop was in the back, a room where the door was always open if he was in working, where the walls around it showcased the more classical instruments - violins, violas, and a few cellos. There was even a section of wall devoted to the less standard instruments - things like harmonicas and kazoos and triangles.

     Pressed up against the left side was the counter, whose display was covered in guitar picks, cables, straps, tuners, and various miscellaneous musician’s accessories. It gave you a wonderful view of the window display - a drum kit you had beaten the hell out of when you were younger and repurposed as a cat tree for the shop feline. A drum kit that was, currently, half on its side, and had an empty floor tom down from the display. And picks all over the floor.

     “Whispurr, we’ve been over this,” You scolded as you set your bag on the counter and took your coat off, “No messing with the guitar picks. It takes forever to clean them up, and I never find them all.”

     Whispurr, of course, couldn’t care less. The pretty little calico was lazing in a sunspot, only acknowledging your finger-wagging by stretching out and rolling on her back. Even her little mew was sugar sweet. She would never ever cause you any trouble, right?

     You huffed, running a hand through your hair as you righted the display. Zip ties, you needed to ask your father where the zip ties were. Picking up the guitar picks that littered the floor always took longer than you would have liked, but at least they were big enough to see. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t get used - a music shop in a town full of monsters meant your shop was always busy.

     Eight years ago, life changed for every single human on the planet. Especially for those in the little town of Ebott that you called home. You had been in the shop, of course, working on a violin rental when the sky had flashed the brightest white imaginable. You had nearly dropped the instrument you were holding, all parties abandoning the sale for a moment to search outside for some cause of the light. You wouldn’t have an answer until you got back to your apartment that evening and turned on the news. Monsters. On the surface. Actual, living and breathing monsters on the surface and interacting with humans. The news had kept showing one set of footage, a set of eight human monsters and two human children as they walked out from a gaping black hole in the mountain - one with a child’s guitar strapped to their back. Life had changed in your town overnight - the military occupying and quarantining the monsters until it could be determined if they were a threat or not.

     In the middle of that whole mess, the monsters who had been the first to surface made a band. One line still stuck in your brain all these years later, even though the face of the monster had long since blurred from memory.

     “we’re not here to start a war. we’re not even here to fight. we just wanted to feel the sun on our faces and see the stars again. we just want to make music.”

     That was a sentiment you could get behind.

 

     The military had stuck around for nearly three years, evaluating each and every monster that appeared, categorizing them and documenting and trying in vain to find some way to label these newcomers as a threat. But every antagonizing strike had only been met with a riff on the child’s guitar or a song that flowed from every monster’s voice at once. It was like they were pouring their souls into their music, and humanity loved it. The military had been unable to occupy for much longer, the people of your little town had started camping near the fence and staying up until the sun rose up in the sky making music and interacting with the monsters. No concrete evidence and some insanely positive press meant the government had to go.

     Ebott had played a big part in getting monsters into society, but a lot of places were not so welcoming. Humanity was far from perfect, adding something new into the mix was a recipe for trouble. There were some riots, some pretty serious injuries that the hospital had taken care of - but with the music and magic that monsters brought to Ebott Town, people changed their minds pretty quickly. It wasn’t like that for the entire world, but in Ebott, it was a little slice of Paradise for monsters and humans alike.

     Which is why you didn’t bat an eye when the first customer of the day walked in. The bell above the door jingled, and Whispurr perked right up, prancing over to the newcomer with her tail held high in the air.

     “Morning ____!” The blue rabbit called with a wave, “How’re you this fine morning?”

     “Hey, Jimmy!” You waved, still crouched on the floor, “I’m alright, Whispurr made a bit of a mess, but otherwise I can’t complain.”

     His ears perked up, twitching while he knelt to help you gather the last of the picks, “Aw, well, at least it’s not a permanent mess, right?” There’s that hopeful grin that never failed to coax a grin out of you. You smiled right back, straightening up and dumping the picks on the counter. He followed suit, then pulled you into a hug that you readily returned.

     “Are you here for more nose flutes? I don’t have as many colors as I normally do… but we should get a new order in next week?” You scrunched your brows while you thought, gesturing to the bin at the end of the counter while you carefully tucked your personal belongings away.

     Jimmy rested his elbows on the counter, ears tall and attentive, “Nah, not today. I was actually wondering if you had any maracas in? My buddy is feelin’ a little down, his broke when we came to the surface and he hasn’t found any he likes since.”

     You hummed, nodding and leading the way back to the percussion section of the store. Jimmy had waited a while before coming to the surface, almost five years. The worst of human aggression seemed over, and there was no point in coming to the surface if he couldn’t continue his Nice Cream sales.

     “Tell me about your friend, maybe I can help pick out something he likes!”

     If Mr. Nice Cream’s grin could get any wider, it just did. He immediately launched into a tale about his friend who always helped him when he was stuck on slogans for his popsicles. Even though his friend worked a crummy job selling Glamburgers™ and had a terrible boss. He had stumbled on maracas one day in the dump and found he could make something similar with the seeds for the burger buns. But when the pair had moved to the surface, it had rained and melted his homemade instruments.

     You frowned in sympathy, nodding and skimming along the wall for something close…. Oh! Oh, wait!

     “What about these ones?” you asked, pulling a pair off the wall. They were fairly traditional, a brown base with a red zig-zag and a baby-blue base. You struck a dramatic pose, wrists wriggling to make the _shakey-shake_ sound that maracas made so well. “They’re pretty simple, but they’ve got a great sound. I thought about the sparkly pink ones, but…”

Jimmy shook his head. Aggressively.

     You nodded, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” One last shake and you handed them over, “What d’you think? Think they’ll like them?”

     This was the most serious you’ve seen the Nice Cream Guy. His ears drooped - not from sorrow, but in concentration. His eyes narrowed and he inspected every inch, even lifting the handle up to his eyes to look down the length of it.

     “They do have a pretty nice sound,” He mused, stroking his chin while he thought, “But I don’t think these colors scream his name, y’know?”

     You nodded wisely, “I know. Tell you what, my dad has some sealer in his shop - take them home, paint them however you please, and bring them back. I can seal them then and the colors will have no choice but to scream his name!”

     “_____! That’s a great idea!” He was practically vibrating with excitement, and scooped you up in another hug, “There’s no better way to show someone you care than by making them something yourself?”

 

     The rest of the day went by pretty similarly. A few customers here, some questions there. Equal parts monsters and humans wandering through your doors. The monsters came in knowing exactly what they wanted - it was especially exciting for them. There had been so few decent instruments Underground - they had to survive the fall first, and then had to be lucky enough not to land in the water and stay there. Rumor had it there had been two whole instruments in decent enough shape (A baby grand piano and bass) that had survived well enough to be played. Beyond that… Well, they were a rarity. Monsters had flooded your store a little faster than you knew what to do with.

     It’s getting to be late enough all you want to do is play with Whispurr - but she’s snoozing in the window display. You can see the tip of her tail twitch from that repurposed floor-tom she was so fond of. Dad’s working in the back of the shop, you can hear the little  _tap tap taps_ from various tools, creating a sort of soothing ambiance for the whole store. It was during moments like these where you found your gaze wandering to the back of the shop where the classical instruments rested. Specifically on one viola off to the side. It had been an experiment of your father’s and had a wider base than most, but the strangeness of the shape lent itself to a wonderful round sound. It was your favorite. Maybe you could play with it, just for a little while….

     No sooner had your fingers just began to touch the instrument than the bell above your door jingled, signaling a new customer. You sighed, letting the tips of your fingers trail off the edge with a sigh. Maybe next time.

     “Hi! Welcome to Harmony’s Music, anything I can help you find?” You call over your shoulder, sighing to yourself before plastering on your customer-service smile.

     “GOOD AFTERNOON, HUMAN. I WAS WONDERING IF YOU HAD A MOMENT TO LOOK AT MY BROTHER’S INSTRUMENT? IT IS IN DIRE NEED OF SOME REPAIRS AND HE IS TOO LAZY TO GET THEM HIMSELF.”

     Wow. That was way too loud for indoors. You barely manage to hide a wince at the initial volume, instead choosing to believe it was because they were so enthusiastic about… repairing… their brother’s instrument…

     Totally believable.

     “I do! My dad’s busy at the moment with another repair, but I should be able to help figure out what you need,” You began, turning around to face the newcomers. You blinked in surprise, not because they were monsters, but because they were skeletons. There weren’t a whole lot of skeleton monsters around - actually, now that you thought about it, there weren’t any other than the ones in front of you.

     The two brothers were standing side by side, one was nearly seven feet tall with red-mittened hands on his hips and a mildly annoyed expression on his face that told you he was the speaker. He wore a sort of armor on his chest, white with golden trim, and blue briefs with a wide golden belt that seemed to cover his important bits. Did skeletons have important bits? Underneath all of that was a black skin-tight (bone-tight?) bodysuit that covered his bones. He wore a bright red scarf as well, billowing in the wind that didn’t exist inside of your shop. The skeleton next to him was his brother, you assumed. He was average height, though next to his sibling anyone would look small. He was wearing a blue hoodie, zipped up almost enough to cover the white shirt beneath, with black shorts and well-loved sneakers. He was the one with an instrument on his back - something that looked like an electric guitar, or maybe a bass.

     You blinked again, and the taller of the two furrowed the brow bones above his eyes in concern, “HUMAN, ARE YOU OKAY?”

     “You have eyebrows?”

     Wow. Great first impression.

     “I mean! I’m fine! Totally fine, I swear I didn’t mean to stare.” You hurried to explain, hands splayed before you in an effort to stall them while you explained yourself, “I was confused. That’s all. You’ve got a very expressive face, considering…”

     The taller of the two struck a pose, lifting his chin proudly, “YES! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE MOST EXPRESSIVE OF SKELETONS. MY BROTHER SANS COULD LEARN A THING OR TWO FROM MY ILLUMINATING USE OF EYEBROWS.”

     The smaller skeleton shrugged. He kept his perfectly straight teeth in a lazy grin, the smile not quite reaching his eyes, “you’re just too cool for me, paps. it seems like an awful lot of work to make so many expressions all the time. it’d make me…” The white lights of his eyes trailed over to meet yours, they seemed to twinkle, “... _bone_ -tired.”

     “SANS! YOU’RE GOING TO CHASE THIS NICE HUMAN AWAY AND WE NEED HER TO REPAIR YOUR BASS! NO JOKES!” You snorted, rolling your eyes and covering your grin with one hand.

     You wandered over to the counter, still grinning to yourself as you rest your elbows on the counter, chin propped in your hands, “Oh, I don’t think he’ll chase me away. I thought it was pretty _punny_.”

     Papyrus froze, turning his head to glare at you while his brother’s smile seemed to grow enough to reach his eyes. “NOT YOU TOO.”

     “aw, don’t worry about it. that was an easy one,” Sans said, pulling one hand out of his hoodie pockets to inspect something on the counter’s display, “too lazy to find a _bone_ to _pick_ with her over it.” He drawled, holding up one of the thicker jazz picks to his brother.

     Ooh, music puns. That was way more your forte. Heh.

     “I’m sure you could _drum_ something up. Sounds like puns are more your _forte_ than mine, I’m afraid my jokes usually fall a little _flat_.” You grinned, flicking your eyes over to the drum kit in the window. Sans was really smiling now, dimples forming in the bones where his cheeks would be and the lights in his eyes shrinking ever so slightly. It was an expression equal parts delighted and mischievous. You quirked a brow at him, daring him to continue.

     He hummed low in his throat (or lack thereof, you really needed to re-evaluate how you described someone without muscle), “i think you’re a _natural,_  kid.”

     “I’ve been told I’m pretty _sharp_.”

     “ _clef-er_  girl. people usually can’t _measure_ up to my punnage.”

     “You’re _four ‘n’ four_ , seemed rude to just _waltz_ in.”

     His eye-sockets narrowed (bone could move like that?) while he thought about your sentence for a moment. You kept smiling, tapping out a waltz rhythm on the countertop while you waited for his brain to catch up. His eye lights widened when the joke finally landed - you took the chance to seal the deal with a wink.

     Sans laughed, eye sockets closing fully while his shoulder shook, smile wide. Papyrus had his face planted in his palm, shaking his head and grumbling.

     “ARE YOU TWO FINISHED? WE WERE HERE ON A MISSION.” Papyrus asked, finally lifting his head to glare at the two of you.

     The smaller skeleton nodded, “yeah bro, we’re done.”

     You nodded, breathing out a laugh while you ran a hand through your hair, “For now. Probably should work before my dad hears. He hates it when I joke with the customers - not because I’m supposed to be working,” You clarified, “Just because he can’t keep _in tune_ with what we’re saying.”

     “I AM GOING TO IGNORE THAT.” Papyrus said coldly while Sans barked out a laugh, shrugging the instrument off his back, “YOU TWO ARE GOING TO TALK ABOUT SANS’S BASS, I AM GOING TO SIT IN THE WINDOW.”

     With that, he stomped off, chin lifted comically high in the air as he sat on the stool by Whispurr’s kit. Hopefully he wasn’t afraid of cats, especially ones that seemed to sleep in old drums.

     You grinned with a shrug, “I couldn’t resist.”

     “don’t blame you.” Sans said, setting the soft case down on the counter with care, “he complains, but he finds them just as entertaining. he also says you are the best bet for restoring my baby.”

     “Dad is, I work the store, he’s the one who actually does the repairs in the back,” You hum, pointing back to your dad’s workshop, “But I can let you know what we’re looking at price wise. It’s usually a few days for a repair, are you going to need to rent a bass in the meantime?”

     “nah.” He says with a wave of his hand, “the band can deal without me for a few rehearsals. i usually sleep through most of it anyway.”

     You glance up at him, a wry grin on your lips, “Bass is more important than a lot of people think, definitely an underappreciated instrument. May I?” You ask, fingers hovering on the zipper to the case. He nods, and you carefully open the case expression turning serious as you inspected the instrument.

     Inside the case is an Ibanez bass, but it definitely had seen better days. The body is all dented, some of the metal fret markers are completely missing, the strings are rusted all to hell and you’re pretty sure the pick-up jack is completely ruined. It looked like it used to be a dark midnight blue, but there was so much dirt and grime that it looked grey-black.  You frowned, carefully picking up the instrument to inspect the neck a little more thoroughly. Five strings, but the tuning pegs looked like they were crudely carved out of rocks and jammed in. He’d need new ones. In its prime, it must have been a beautiful instrument. Now?

     “No offense, but did you pick this up in a garbage dump?” You questioned, inspecting the bridge, “Your brother wasn’t kidding. It needs some pretty serious repairs.”

     Sans shrugged, “you could say that.” He closed his eyes for a moment, opening his left in a half-assed approximation of a wink, “i had it before we came to the surface.”

     You winced, gingerly setting the instrument back down, “Ooh, sorry. Hope I didn’t strike a _chord_ there.” You offered an apologetic smile, hoping the pun would lessen the blow. Monsters didn’t really like to be reminded of life underground.

     “no, it’s a _minor_ thing.” He waved you off with a hand. Both eye sockets opened, and his smile dropped into something close to a frown, “how bad is she? i know i haven’t been the best at taking care of her, didn’t really expect her to last this long…”

     “Bad enough,” You hummed, “Body’s all dirty and dented, but that’s mostly cosmetic. Have you been having issues with your amp?” He nodded, “Yeah, thought so. Your pickup’s busted, means the volume and tone knobs are probably in the same state, which means a whole lotta time in your wiring. Some of these frets need to be replaced, or reattached, depending on your budget. Tuning pegs, but we’ll have to order those so we know they’re the right size. And strings, of course. I’m impressed the ones you’ve got on here are playable at all.”

     “SANS HAS NEVER CHANGED HIS STRINGS. HE CLAIMS IT WILL CHANGE THE SOUND, BUT REALLY HE IS TOO LAZY TO BOTHER.” Papyrus called from the window, “HUMAN, MAY I PLAY THESE DRUMS?”

     You turned to face Papyrus, nodding, “Sure, just make sure Whispurr isn’t --”

     You don’t get a chance to finish that thought. Papyrus had conjured two long, narrow bones from thin air before you get past your first word and immediately begins _rattatatata-_ ing on the floor tom. It’s halted by an indignant meow, which freezes Papyrus in his tracks, looking at you in alarm.

     “THAT IS NOT THE SOUND THIS DRUM IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE.”

     “No, but it’s the sound shop kitty’s make,” You smile, walking over to him and crouching down. You tugged the floor tom around, spinning it so he could look into the little hole you had carved out and see the disgruntled calico peering at you with narrow amber eyes. She was not happy to be disturbed.

     “HUMAN! YOU DID NOT--” He cut himself off, clearing his throat while he moved to sit cross-legged on the floor beside you, “You did not mention you had a pet, let alone a feline as sweet as this one.”

     Your expression softened, watching as he seemed to struggle with the urge to reach out and pet the cat, “She usually makes herself known the moment someone walks in the door, must have been sleeping when you guys arrived.” You stuck your hand out for her to sniff, then scratched the top of her head with your fingertips, “This is Whispurr. She keeps the mice away from dad’s workshop and watches the store at night.”

     Papyrus nodded wisely, “A Night Guard, the most honorable of professions. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He pulled the red glove off of one hand, exposing the bones of his hand to the elements as he offered it to Whispurr to sniff. She was definitely curious, ears perking up as she sniffed up the length of one of his phalanges.

     “Do you want to hold her?”

     Papyrus nodded solemnly, very serious in how gentle he was in your cat’s presence, “Very much so.”

     You hummed, and reached your hands right into the little drum, scooping up the kitty while she mewed in protest. Only for a moment though, as you gently plopped her into Papyrus’s lap. He seemed to hesitate, hands raised and looking at you uncertainly. You offered him an encouraging grin, gently stroking Whispurr across her back. She seemed uncertain herself, sniffing around Papyrus’s lap and moving in a slow circle. It took the feline a moment, but she settled right down, resting her chin on his femur. The Skeleton’s eyes widened, and he slowly began to grin as his hand trailed across her fur.

     “I think she likes you,” You murmured, scratching between her ears as she gave a content little mrow, “She loves attention, but doesn’t settle in just anyone’s lap.”

     Papyrus nodded, reverently stroking Whispurr. She began to purr, and the moment Papyrus’s expression softened to unbridled awe you grinned, standing and leaving the two to themselves. Sans is still over by the counter. His eyes were locked on you, a strange expression on his face. Your own smile faltered, unable to read whatever emotion was playing in the depths of those dark eye sockets. Sweaty hands get run over your thighs while you meander back over to the counter.

     “He’s good with animals,” You said with a nod, “Do you guys have one at home?”

     Sans shrugged, “sometimes. there’s this annoying dog that likes to steal his bones once in a while, but it’s not really a pet.”

     You blinked, “It steals your bones? Isn’t that… I dunno, painful?”

     “nah.”

     “Then how…?”

     “magic.” he says, wriggling his fingers underneath his white gloves.

     You snorted, pressing a button on the counter that would ring your father back in the workshop. “Right, magic. Is that you’re explanation for all things monster?”

     “nah.” Sans gave another lazy wink but made no move to elaborate further.

     Thankfully, your father chose that moment to intervene. You heard the door to his workshop close behind him with a click, feet quietly moving along the hardwood floors of the shop. He had his glasses perched on the end of his nose, easy jeans and t-shirt covered by the green apron he always wore when he worked. His hair was salt and peppered, and his hands looked worn even from this distance, and he was still wearing his wedding ring on a cord around his neck. You felt a pang in your heart at that, memories poking at the edge of your consciousness, but now wasn’t the time to reminisce. You had a customer to take care of. Dad waved, which you returned with a smile.

     “Look at this, dad. Think you can repair it?” You asked.

     Your father hummed, pushing his glasses up a little further on his nose while he shifted into work-mode. He handled the instrument, eyes narrowing and lips pursing as he checked it over. “It will take at least a week, if not a little longer. I can get the frets and pickup done in a few days, but the shipment on the tuning pegs…”

     “Is unpredictable at best,” You sighed, “I kinda figured. You really need a new provider.”

     Sans cleared his throat, pulling your attention from the bass to him, “can’t you just carve new pegs?”

     Dad nodded, moving his glasses to rest on top of his head and rubbing the side of his face, “Technically, yes, but carving something that would support the tension on the thicker bass strings would take more time. And cost you more.” He clarified, tracing the rusted strings as he spoke, “I can, if you would prefer that.”

     “THAT IS ALRIGHT. WE CAN WAIT FOR THE CORRECT PEGS IN THE MAIL, RIGHT SANS?” Papyrus chose that moment to pitch in, cradling a perfectly content feline in his arms as he approached the counter. “THE REST OF US WILL BE PERFECTLY FINE WAITING FOR REPAIRS.”

     Sans had both eyes closed at this moment, seemingly content to let Papyrus and your father work out the logistics. You were too, as a matter of fact. One hand rested on your father’s shoulder as you squeezed behind him, keeping him from back-stepping and pressing you into the wall. That viola was still calling your name. Just because you couldn’t play with someone in the store didn’t mean you couldn’t admire your father’s craftsmanship.

     It really was a beautiful viola. A warm cherry red finish, the striping on the wood alternating between deep shades and warmer fall tones. There was no standard design for a viola - violins and cellos you could basically scale up and down between sizes, but violas? The neck could be shorter, the base wider, really, you could craft it however you wanted as long as it wore the same strings. You had seen some pretty interesting interpretations in your time, but your father’s were always your favorite. Probably personal bias. It didn’t stop the smile on your lips as you carefully pulled the instrumen from where it was hung, taking the moment to admire it from all angles.

     “do you play?” You jumped, head whipping around to look at Sans with wide eyes, “heh, sorry kid. didn’t mean to jump your bones there.”

     You shook your head, exhaling and turning your gaze back to the instrument in your hands, “S’cool. I do play, my mom is first chair violin in a fancy orchestra up north. She taught me violin when I was younger, but they’re just so squeaky, y’know?” You grinned, plucking at the E string of a violin nearby, “Violas, well, they’re deeper and warmer. That nice middle sound that everything is just so empty without.”

     Sans nodded, hands shoved back in his pockets, “i get that. s’why i play bass.”

     “Exactly,” you grinned, setting the viola back on the stand, “I’ve never been a leading player, and I don’t want to be. I’d rather support my peers than steal the spotlight over some fancy trills in third position. I don’t do melody, I like Whispurr.”

     “heh. you’re alright kid.”

     “Thanks.” You grinned, lifting your chin, “You seem alright yourself.”

     The two of you enjoy the silence for a moment, Sans was looking at you with a thoughtful gleam to the light in his eyes, at least, you thought it looked thoughtful. He still wore that grin, you didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell how he was feeling from the way the bones of his face moved. Did faces have bones? Beyond the obvious one of the skull? Huh, maybe it was time to brush up on your skeletal anatomy.

     Sans, for his part, was actually thinking about you. You ran a shop of this size all on your own, accepting everyone who walked in with no strings attached. He had traveled, he knew how sour humans could be to his kind, and even in Ebott, there were still people who didn’t think monsters belonged on the surface at all. He still received the occasional letter in his overflowing mailbox that was filled with slurs, some even with fine grains of sand meant to appear as Dust. It… it took a lot out of a guy to see these things, especially in a place where everyone else seemed so content. Maybe it was because he was closer to human than the rest of monsterkind, living in some sort of uncanny valley where humans say themselves dead everytime they looked at him and his brother. If they bothered to look beyond first impressions, they would see the differences. The thicker bones of his own body, the fusion of the bones near his jaw, how Papyrus’s bones were too long to belong to your average human. They didn’t care. He didn’t like humans, with the small exception of the one who fell and saved them all. Not after so many insults and threats and attacks that he had been lucky to dodge and spare himself. You… You were a good person. A kind person.

     You were intriguing.

     “HUMAN!” Papyrus called from the counter, startling the two of you out from whatever silence had fallen between you, “YOUR FATHER AND I HAVE WORKED OUT THE DETAILS OF SANS’S REPAIR. AS MUCH AS I WOULD LOVE TO STAY AND CONVERSE WITH YOU AND Whispurr THE CAT, WE MUST RETURN HOME. IT IS SPAGHETTI NIGHT, I WOULD NOT WISH TO BE LATE AND DISAPPOINT UNDYNE.”

     “Oh, alright!” You nodded, “It is getting pretty late, Dad and I should close up and head home ourselves.”

     Papyrus nodded, carefully handing you the feline that was so sweetly asleep in his arms. Whispurr really did like him a lot, if she fell back asleep that quickly. She mewed at the transfer, looking back at Papyrus with amber eyes filled with longing. Interesting.

     “FEAR NOT! WE WILL RETURN TO VISIT YOU AND YOUR FELINE WHISPURR, MOST LIKELY BEFORE THE BASS IS COMPLETE. BECAUSE I ADORE YOUR FELINE AND YOU SEEM NICE ENOUGH,” He paused, holding a moment to glance between you and Sans, “EXCEPT FOR THE PUNS.”

     “yeah, we’ll be back. frisk mentioned wanting new guitar strings, maybe we can bring them by later this week.”

     You hummed, “I’ll be here. Monday to Friday from 10:00 to 6:00!” You pulled the door open, flipping the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ as you held it for them to go through, “And Saturdays 9:00 to 1:00.”

      “noted.”

     That pulled a snicker from you while your father shook his head in the background, “See you guys around!”

     The door closed behind them, Papyrus turning to bow deeply at you through the glass window in farewell, which you returned with some approximation of a curtsy while you still held Whispurr. Sans just waved, and the two turned a corner and promptly vanished. You grinned, locking the door and turning back to your father. He was still examining the bass on the counter and you could see the gears in his head turning. If you didn’t get him out of here soon, he would stay all night working on that.

     “Come on dad,” you said while you gently place Whispurr on her stand in the window, “Let’s go home. We should probably eat too.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee date with the BFFs, and a guest appearance from the skele himself. 
> 
> Lining things up for the main event - exposition is the hardest part - see y'all in two weeks!

    Thank goodness for coffee shop dates. Especially with your best friends in a shop that never failed to make your order better than ever before. The little bell above the shop jingled as you entered through the door, the sweet scent of homemade cinnamon bunnies and fresh espresso reaching your nose. This shop was one of your favorite places - and one of the few coffee shops open late enough to get you what you need after work.

    You heard someone call your name, head scanning the crowd until you find the gaze of your best friends. Dahria was standing at a table in the window corner with her mousy brown hair in a bob, big framed glasses resting on the bridge of her nose and a wide-toothed smile on her lips. She was wearing a warm peach sweater with a gray scarf and jeans, pretty similar to her usual ensemble, right down to the open notebook on the table in front of her. You had known Dahria since high school and had been best friends since that silly little movie project you helped her with in senior year. She had the guts to go away to college across the country, and was one of the head journalists for the newspaper in town. It was a sweet gig, and she was totally in her element.

    Across the table from Dahria sat a familiar green fire elemental. Fuku was a sweet girl, literally made of flames in various shades of green that started almost yellow in the middle of her person, fading into shades of forest and emerald at the edges. Today, the flame that made up her hair was styled in a sort of a pixie cut, whisp-ing over one eye dark as coal. Fuku was nursing a cup of coffee, offering a friendly flicker of her hand in a wave. Fuku had been something of a school-girl when you had first met her but quickly adopted a more punk aesthetic once humanity got over the whole fire person thing. She always wore shorts and a band tank-top, today it was all accented with converse and a leather jacket.

    You grinned and waved right back, motioning for them to wait a moment while you ordered a drink from the counter. Miss Muffett did not like it when people just hung out in her café without ordering something.

    “Good afternoon, Miss Muffett!” You said with a smile as she turned to face you. Her eight dark eyes glittered, fanged smile sickly-sweet as one set of hands covered her heart, and another set spread open in a welcoming gesture.

    “Miss ___, back again I see! How is my favorite customer?” She asked resting her chin on a set of her hands, “Is there anything I can get for you, dearie?”

    You nodded, asking for your usual hot chocolate and whipped cream. You let Muffett talk you into a spider donut as well. Sometimes that fanged grinned verged just a little on the scary side, it got friendlier the more you purchased. The prices were reasonable, it didn’t hurt to get a few more things and support a local business.

    Dahria and Fuku were waiting at the table, chattering away as always.

    “It’s really fascinating, and really well written!” Dahria was excited, it showed in the pattering on the end of her pencil on her notepad, “And honestly, it’s freeing. I never expected an article to be so open-minded, especially in reference to the Bible.”

    Fuku nodded, taking another sip of the beverage in her hands, “I still don’t see why it’s such a big deal. Us monsters never cared about what gender out other was, why do humans make such a big deal out of it?”

    “Monsters also don’t really shoot their shots until they know the other is interested,” You added, “Lots of humans, both guys and girls, don’t really care if the other party is interested or not.”

    “Fair enough,” Fuku said with a shrug, Dahria hummed in agreement. The conversation seemed to fizzle from there - you all knew from past experience that discussions about human sexualities and the lack of boundaries some people seemed to have.

    You hummed as well, enjoying the warmth and richness of the hot chocolate as it went down, “So, what’re you writing about these days?” You asked, tapping a finger on Dahria’s notebook.

    She lit right up. The three of you found yourselves wrapped right back up in a conversation. Dahria loved to chat about what she was working on, but wouldn’t bring her projects up unless she was asked. Something about not wanting to be all work and no play. Fuku worked at a bar in town, and usually had a good idea of where to go for the next story. They were a good team, very complementary to each other.

    “Honestly, I think I need something new to write about.” Dahria sighed, twirling a strand of hair around one finger, “Something different. I mean, there’s not exactly a whole lot to pick from in this town. And I’m a little tired of writing about monster-human discoveries. Great, we’re officially running entirely on renewable geothermal energy, and the rest of the world is finally moving to match. Woohoo.”

    Fuku snorted, smiling softly to herself around another sip of her drink, “I remember when you were ecstatic about that.”

    “And I still am!” She clarified, “It’s an amazing step forward! But would it be so difficult to have something exciting happen in Ebott once in a while? I mean, really.”

    “You could write about music? There’s lots of little bands that come through my dad’s bar, even a few big ones,” Fuku crackled, “I know you don’t usually write entertainment articles, but maybe it’d be a nice change of pace.

    “Mmm, yeah. Maybe.” She hummed, turning to face you her lips scrunched up in thought, “What do you think, ___?”

    You shrugged, sipping at your drink again, “It might be fun. But I don’t have any leads for you, I just sell and repair the instruments, I don’t actually know a whole lot of bands.” Your friends hummed in acknowledgment. You heard a low voice in the back of your mind, something about puns and friends in a band, “Uh, well actually, there was one guy that came into the shop yesterday. Needed his bass repaired and mentioned something about having a band. His brother came with him, they were super sweet.”

    Fuku’s firelight flickered mischievously, “They were super sweet, or _he_ was super sweet?”

    A harsh breath left your nostrils in some approximation of a laugh, “They were both very nice. It was a good bass, just needs a lot of repairs. The older brother kept firing off puns left, right, and center. It was pretty great.”

    “Ooh, you think he was cute?” It was Dahria’s turn to investigate, “If he’s cute then it’s all the more reason to ask about his band.”

    “I don’t know! He was nice, we made a few jokes, talked about our instruments and stayed past closing. I almost had to rush them out the door to get home in time for dinner.”

    Fuku crackled with laughter, shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping it quiet. You gave her a look, glaring over the cup in your hands. The fire at the end of her hair flickering with amusement. She knew something, but Fuku was a quiet person. She wouldn’t tell anything until she was sure of it. Whatever thoughts were going through her soul at that moment were for her and her alone. Maybe someday you would find out what it was.

    “It’s not like I can just ask him what his band’s like and when they’re playing,” You mumbled, finishing your drink, “I feel like that’d be weird.”

    “It is literally that simple. Just ask and see. Maybe you’ll be responsible for Dahria’s next big story.” Fuku said, leaning back in her chair with her hands behind her head, “Worst case scenario, he thinks you’re interested in him. Oh no a date, stars forbid.”

    You coughed, hot chocolate getting caught in your throat. Your cheeks were warm. Dahria rubbed your back, trading a glance with Fuku while you wiped your eyes. Great, they were going to latch onto that and push you into this. Better to give them an inch then have then thinking they were going to have to force a mile.

    You fixed Fuku with a glare, running a hand through your hair to attempt to fix your appearance, “I’m not going to date a customer, Fuku. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

    “It’s not illegal,” she scoffed, “I’ve dated lots of people I met at the bar.”

    “Fuku. That’s weird.”

    The fire elemental raised her hands up in the air, coal black eyes widening, “It’s not! It’s a _bar ,_  that’s where you’re supposed to meet people and date people! Dad knew everyone who walked in that door, it wasn’t hard to find the burnouts.”

    You blinked, mouth opened and then… just closing. She was right… but still.

    Dahria patted your shoulder, pulling your attention to her, “When was the last time you were on a date? Really. It’s been how long?”

    “Why does that matter?”

    You were answered by two sets of raised eyebrows, and a gesture for you to continue. You muttered to yourself and crossed your arms, slinking down in your seat. You were pouting, absolutely, but only because you had been through this all before. Several times.

     “Three years.”

     “Three years!” They both exclaimed, Dahria’s more of shock than Fuku’s amused one.

     You sunk even further in your seat while they started at you again.

     “_____ I can’t believe it! Just because you had one bad relationship doesn’t mean you can’t try again and find someone new---”

    “Ask for his phone number, poke about his shows, you’ll get a date and some good music and it’ll be a good time---”

    “Ladies!” You said, hands up to stop them in their tracks. Both girls clamped their mouths shut, grinning. “I will ask about his band. Nothing more. I will not be asking a _customer_ on a date. I will pass on the information to a friend looking for new music. That’s _it._ Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need another hot chocolate if I’m going to keep up with the nonsense you two are gonna put me through.”

    Dahria pouted, Fuku winked. You rolled your eyes as you stood, shaking your head with an exasperated smile on your lips. Thank goodness for Miss Muffett’s shop.

    “Miss Muffett, can I have another cocoa? A large this time.” You requested with a small smile, starting to dig through your pockets for the cash.

    “ _bean_ having a rough day?”

    You let yourself smile a little at the familiar voice behind you, glancing over your shoulder, “Eh. My friends are just giving me a hard time is all. They mean well.”

    Sans nodded. He was wearing the same blue hoodie as the last time you saw him, hands shoved in his pockets and teeth set in that same lazy grin. He seemed chill, without a care in the world as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “i get that. they can have the best intentions and still wear you down to the _bone._ ”

    “You’ve used that one already,” You point out with a grin, “I thought a guy like you wouldn’t run out of material to _espresso_ yourself with.”

    The skeleton snorted, eye sockets closing while that smile became just a little bit wider. Your own expression couldn’t help but mirror his. One eye opened, leaving him regarding you in a lazy wink, the white of his eyelight twinkling like a star in the blackness of the rest of his eye. He looked ready to hit you with another pun - as Miss Muffett set your drink down on the counter.

    “Will that be all, dear?” The spider questioned, polite as ever.

    You nodded, “Yes ma’am, thank you. How much do I owe you?”

    “$3.50, if you would be so kind.”

    You nodded, reaching to pull the change out from your pocket. But someone beat you to the punch.

    “i’ve got it, muffett, long as you’re feeling so kind as to make me a black coffee.”

    You blinked, cash in hand, “Aw, Sans, you really don’t need to do that, I can pay for my own coffee. But thank you.”

    He waved you off, eye sockets closed and offering Muffett a nod in thanks, “fuhgeddaboutit, s’no big deal. call it my act of kindness for the day, okay?”

    No sense in arguing. The money was already exchanged, and Muffett was not one to care unless she was getting short handed in the exchange. You cradled your hot chocolate close to your chest, breathing in the warmth while Sans checked his phone. His cheeks colored blue, eye lights darting over to your friend group in the corner and back again.

    You nodded at the table, inviting him over to sit with you guys for a while. He nodded, shuffling behind you as you reclaimed your seat at the table.

    Fuku’s fire was crackling with amusement, resting her chin on one hand while the other tossed her phone up and down. She was up to something, but what exactly it was you couldn't tell.

    “Heya Sansy,” the fire monster said with a wink, “Didn’t realize you were back in town. You been in to see Pops yet?”

    “nah, haven’t had the time yet. was planning on stopping by tonight to catch up and see what’s _crackling_.” He was still standing, not quite willing to sit at the table and join your little group. You snorted in reaction to the pun, sipping your drink with a little grin on your face. Fuku caught your expression and her fire crackled a little brighter. Oh, whatever she was seeing, she was really enjoying.

    Her hair flames wiggled, and her coal eyes narrowed, “Make sure you see him, Pop will never forgive you if you wait to come say hi.”

    Sans waved it off, eyes closed and lazy grin growing wider in amusement. He waggled his phone at her, “i’ll visit him tonight. cross my soul.” He even did the motion over his sternum, one gloved hand crossing the X. Fuku seemed appeased, adjusting so she was leaning back in her chair once more.

    “You better. Tell Papyrus I said hello, okay?” She nodded. Sans mirrored her, waving as he shuffled out the door. Fuku’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. She immediately followed that up with a snicker. That monster and her secrets. You would figure them out someday.

    Dahria stood next, stretching above her and squeaking with the movement, “I think I’m gonna follow suit and head home. It’s getting pretty late, and I’ve gotta get home and finish this theological article before midnight.”

    “I oughta head home too,” Fuku mutters, fiery fingers tapping away at her phone, “We’re getting pretty close to time for my shift at the bar.”

    You sighed, slumping on the tabletop with a groan. “You guys are going to demand I go on a date and then leave me all alone here?” The table was cool on the side of your face, but your cheek squished your lips forward and made your syllables washy.

    “Yup.” Fuku said, ruffling your hair. Dahria hummed, hugging you as she moved to leave. “We’ll see you later.”

    “I’ll text you!” Dahria said, backing away with a wave, “Get that guy’s number!”

    “I’m not dating a customer!” You called back as both of your friends exited the shop with peals of laughter. You huffed, pouting to yourself as you nursed your free hot chocolate. Might as well enjoy it, you were in no rush to head back into the store for another evening of work.

 

★★★★★

 

    Sans’s phone went off with a ding, buzzing on the table between him and Papyrus. His brother gave him a fleeting glare - there was a standing no phones at the table rule in this household - but when Sans didn’t immediately reach for the phone, Papyrus wen right back to serving dinner.

    “looks good, bro.” Sans said, leaning back to rest one slippered foot on the table and closing one eye, “never thought i’d see you cooking something other than spaghetti.”

    “WE HAVE BEEN ON THE SURFACE FOR YEARS, BROTHER. PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HAVE MORE FAITH IN THE GREAT PAPYRUS’S COOKING ABILITIES.”

    The grin on the shorter skeleton’s lips grew wide, eyes closing for a moment with a chuckle as his brother smacked his feet off the table, “you’re right. I was just thinking it was im- _pasta_ -ble for you to ever make anything else.”

    Papyrus was not amused, “YOU HAVE USED THAT PUN BEFORE, SANS. IT WAS NOT FUNNY THEN, IT IS NOT FUNNY NOW.”

    Sans snickered, pulling his plate closer to him and waving his left hand. The fridge opened with a flash of blue light, and a bottle of ketchup floats right over to him and proceeds to empty half its contents onto the burger lovingly prepared by his brother. Monster food was 90% magic, 10% physical matter. Papyrus’s cooking had improved leaps and bounds since the brothers had arrived on the surface, even branching out from the token spaghetti into so many other food groups. Sans could still remember the sparkles in his brother’s eyes when he realized there was more than one kind of pasta.

    Pasta was still his brother’s specialty, no bones about it. But in an effort to get his brother to eat a little less greasy fries and a little more vegetables, he had learned burgers as well. And boy, his burgers were almost better than Grillby’s.

    Dinner passed quickly, both brothers chatting amicably about their days. It was a good day, all across the board. In fact, it was hours before Sans remembered the message on his phone. He was chilling in his bed, scrolling away when the little yellow button caught his eye.

    Two taps of skeletal phalanges, he felt the ridges of his cheekbones heat up, this magic warming in his chest.

 

 

     **[ fuku: ]** So. Buying humans drinks at coffee shops, huh?

 **[ sans: ]** yeah.

 **[ fuku: ]** I thought you hated humans.

 **[ sans: ]** hate is a strng word

 **[ fuku: ]** Uh huh.

 **[ sans: ]** is there a reason u mssgd abt this?

 **[ fuku: ]** She mentioned someone bringing a bass into her shop. You?

 **[ sans: ]** yee

 **[ fuku: ]** Told you that was the best place to go. What the timeline on the repairs?

 **[ sans: ]** fuku - u nvr mssg unless uve got a motive.

 **[ fuku: ]** I am trying to make conversation!

                 But you’re right. I want you guys to play at dad’s next Friday. You free?

 **[ sans:]** i cna chk w/ the kid. We havnt playd in a while tho

 **[ fuku: ]** That doesn’t matter to us, you know that. You need a gig. Let me do that for you.

 **[ sans: ]** k

 **[ fuku: ]** K you’ll play?

 **[ sans: ]** k

 **[ fuku: ]** Sans.

 **[ sans: ]** fuku

 **[ fuku: ]** …. I’m gonna message Frisk. I’ll see you on Friday.

 **[ sans: ]** k

 **[ fuku: ]** Oh, and if you hurt _____ at all? I will make dad collect your tab.

 **[ sans: ]**  ..... K.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if anything is incorrect! Feed me comments!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Frisk! We play guitar! Fuku invites you to a show and Sans shows off a little bit of magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm four/five days late with this update. I had a family member pass suddenly, and I got to be in charge of arranging the funeral. Wasn't very fun. I'm here, here's this. You'll get another chapter next Friday, as scheduled!
> 
> So sorry for the delay!

      The best part about being the only employee at the music shop was the fact that you basically did whatever you wanted. Sure, you had to restock a few things here and there, keep the instruments in tune, and man the register, but beyond that it didn’t matter if you were on your phone or laptop or just fiddling around with one of the instruments. Easiest job in the world, coupled with the fact that your dad owned the place and  _ bam!  _ Easy work, fun job, decent pay. 

     Dad was still better with the money than you though, that’s why he made the big bucks. 

     “_____, happy Wednesday!” Dad called from the workshop. His apron was already covered in dust and varnish while his hands remained perfectly clean. Some said this was the mark of a man who was skilled in his craft - clean hands, messy apron. “Payday, don’t spend it all in one place.” 

     You looked up from your laptop, Amazon browsing forgotten for a moment, “Neat. Food money. Looks like I don’t have to eat instant ramen tonight.” 

     Dad raised an eyebrow, handing you the envelope between two fingers, “You’re just going to go to that noodle shop run by the Temmies, aren’t you.” 

     “It goes to a good cause, Dad! Temmie just want to go to college!” You shrugged with a grin, “Who am I to deny a young monster’s dreams? Especially when they come with noodles.” 

     Dad just sighed, removing his glasses from his face and pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. He looked at you in that amused/concerned/fond way that fathers often do before electing to ignore you and head back into his workshop. Whispurr meowed as he left, pulling your attention from your father to the people walking in the door as the little bell began to jingle. In walked everyone’s favorite skeleton, wearing what seemed to be his token blue hoodie, basketball shorts, and slippers. He waved, the bare bones of his phalanges wriggling in the air in time with the ridges where his eyebrows would be. 

     Man, skeletons were weird. 

     Behind Sans was a human with brown hair trimmed in a fairly neat bob, narrow golden eyes, and a purple and black striped sweater. They were taller than Sans by almost a full head, and their hands moved rapidly through the air before them, lips curling in a grin as they took in all the instruments. Whispurr sidled up to the pair, meowing loudly in a demand to be pet. Sans patted her on the head. Twice. The human scooped her up and hugged her tight. You could hear your cat begin purring from across the room. 

     “Good morning, Sans! Back so soon?” You returned his wave with the tips of your own fingers, leaning forward on the counter, “Those repairs aren’t done quite yet, I’m afraid…” 

     Sans waved away your statement, shoving hands back in his pockets as he sort of shuffled over to you, “no skin off my bones, quality work takes time. i was just showing my buddy the store, they play a bit of guitar, seemed like a good place to make sure they knew about.” Sans stepped to the side at that moment, nodding at the human beside him, “____, this is frisk. frisk, ____.” 

     You smiled your friendliest smile, “Nice to meet you! That’s Whispurr, seems like she likes you.” 

     Frisk only nodded, smiling and blowing hair out of their eyes. The look in their eyes changed, focusing on something on the middle of your chest for a moment. You looked down, running hands down your front in an effort to remove whatever had caught their attention so suddenly. You glanced at Sans, quirking a brow in question. He just shrugged and wandered off to another corner of the store. 

     Frisk nodded, looking at you with their lips set in a determined smile. Whispurr was placed on the counter, much to her dismay. They made the motion of writing things down, nodding at you. You made a small noise of understanding, nodded, and ducked down to grab a pad of paper and a pen from the stash below the register. Frisk grinned in thanks, immediately setting to writing in a clear, blocky script. 

_ It’s nice to meet you! I don’t talk much, so I usually speak with sign language or my Soul.  _

     You hummed in understanding, “But you can still hear everything okay?”

_ Yep! Do you know sign language?  _

__ “I only know a few words, and the alphabet if I really think about it,” You frowned. You worked with music, it wasn’t often you encountered someone who had the need to use sign language. Not to say there weren’t people who did! Rarity didn’t mean it didn’t exist. 

     Frisk’s smile softened in time with their eyes. They pulled the pad of paper back to themselves, tongue poking through their teeth while they wrote. 

_ That’s okay! Can I keep this pad of paper? That way I can keep writing to you if you want to keep talking. I tried to talk with my Soul - but I don’t think you knew what to Listen for.  _

__ “Is listening with your soul---”

     “Soul, kiddo. it’s listening with your Soul.” Sans chimed in from back by the acoustic guitars, “they’re different.”

     “Oh. Alright then,” You rolled your lips together in thought, brows furrowing for a moment, “Listening with my Soul. How do I do that?”

     Sans shrugged and began plucking something on the guitar in his hands, evidently through with the conversation. There was a sharp exhale from Frisk - a laugh, you realized once you looked at them. They wore a fond smile as the watched the skeleton, and kept the expression while they scribbled some more words down on the notepad. 

_ The short version is that everyone has a Soul that’s made up of a whole bunch of traits: Justice, Kindness, Perseverance, Integrity, Bravery, Patience, and Determination. It’s like a cocktail of all of those ingredients, and your Soul resonates with one more than the others. I’m really Determined, so my Soul’s bright red. Monster souls are made of Love, Hope, and Compassion, and tend to be white/grey/opal-y in color. If your Soul dies, you die. They’re important.  _

__ You nodded, humming. That all sorta made sense - but if that was the short version, you would probably need your own notepad and pen so you remembered everything. Frisk let you catch up on the reading, then continued to write. 

_ Listening is hard to explain. You kinda focus and you’ll hear things.  _ Frisk paused, humming and chewing on the end of the pen in their hand.  _ Like when you know someone needs a hug, even though they haven’t vocalized anything? It’s kind of like that.  _

     “Oof, that sounds kinda difficult.” You said, rubbing at the back of your neck. There was a warmth gathering in your chest though - something strong and steady. “I’ll work on it. See if I can figure it out.” You were determined. 

     Frisk nodded. When your own eyes met their golden ones something seemed to click, a mutual understanding. You were going to work to be able to Listen, and Frisk was going to be there when you figured it out. It was a good feeling. Your lips slid into a smirk, matching the wide-toothed smile on their part. You had a feeling you and Frisk were going to become fast friends. 

     Something went  _ twang _ rather loudly all of a sudden, causing you to straighten and Frisk to jump. Sans was sitting on a stool with a guitar in his hands, eye sockets wide and little white lights barely visible. You couldn’t help but snicker, walking over and gently pulling the guitar from his hands. 

     “Bone probably isn’t the nicest thing to be using on these strings,” You winked, “Too thick for the wire to handle.”

     The shocked expression on the skeleton’s face melted, turning back into that easy grin you were so much more familiar with. He shrugged, “whoopsies. guess i should’ve  _ picked  _ a sturdier guitar.”

     You rolled your eyes, already sitting down to restring the instrument, “That one fell a little  _ flat  _ there, friend.” 

     “you’ve used that one before.” 

     “There’s not exactly a  _ skele-ton  _ of musical puns I can make. If we can use the same four chords in every pop song ever, I think I’m okay recycling a few music puns.”  

     Sans held up his hands in surrender, eyes half closed and shoulders shaking as he tried to hide a laugh, “fair enough kiddo. can’t really argue with that logic.”

     The two of them seemed content to wander around the store while you worked. Sans just eyeing the neverending wall of accessories and Frisk gently playing with Whispurr, who was relishing in the attention provided. Restringing a guitar was among the easiest things in the world for you to do, so it didn’t take very long. Before long you were getting the instrument back in tune, thumb plucking one string at a time while the tip of your tongue poked through your teeth. Frisk had wandered near you by the time you had finished, sitting crossed legged on the floor with a very friendly calico on their lap. You strummed a few chords, checking to see that everything was relative. 

     Sans spoke up from just over your shoulder, “can you play guitar?”

     “Me? Nah, not really, anyway.” You shrugged, checking a few more chords, “I know a few songs, but nothing spectacular.” 

    Frisk clapped their hands together, grabbing your attention while they hurriedly wrote on their notepad,  _ You should play us a song! Please? _

     “Ah, I don’t know, Frisk,” You rubbed at the back of your neck while you rested your other arm on the guitar in your lap, “I’m not very good…’

_ Please? I bet Sans would enjoy it!  _ They said with a waggle of their eyebrows. You blanked for a moment, glancing from Sans to Frisk and back again. The skeleton in question just shrugged, but you could see the smile on his face growing. Ooh, that Frisk. They had a mischievous spirit. You could respect that. It was all a game, and that meant you had to be able to play along. 

     So you did.

     You pressed a finger to your chin, squinting and making a show of racking your brain for something to play. You had an ah-ha moment, finger in the air and smiling at Frisk. You glanced back at Sans, watching as the lights of his eyes turned inquisitive. Now it was impossible to keep the mischief out of your expression. 

     “Last chance, you sure you want me to play something?” 

     Frisk nodded vigorously, hair flopping all over the place. Sans gestured with an open palm, effectively handing you the stage. 

      “Alright, so, anyway,” You said, barely keeping the laugh out of your voice as you set your fingers up, “Here’s Wonderwall.” 

 

★★★★★

 

     “I can’t believe you did that to them!” Dahria screeched over the phone, voice high pitched and strained with laughter, “That song is just so… so…”

     “Much of a meme?” Fuku chimed in. You could hear the amusement in her tone, even if she wasn’t laughing externally. 

     You laughed, nodding even though your friends couldn’t see you react as such, “It just seemed right! I mean, when am I ever going to have another chance to drop a line like that and be prepared to back it up?” 

     Two sighs came through the phone line then, which only sent you into another fit of giggles where you laid on your bed. Work had been pretty uneventful after that. Frisk had dissolved into a full-bodied laugh that rang out clear as bells, and Sans’s face had gone flat for long enough of a moment you thought he didn’t appreciate the joke. Turns out it had only been him registering the joke, because the next moment his face split into the widest grin you had ever seen, eye sockets closing and shoulders shaking with the force of his laugh. You hadn't been able to make it through the first chorus before you dissolved into giggles yourself, the three of you just hanging out in place until the laughter had subsided. Frisk kept giggling to themselves, pen and paper long forgotten. Sans eventually got himself back under control by dragging a skeletal hand down his skeletal face. The look he gave you afterward was equal parts done, admiring, and amused. 

     Then there was a moment when Frisk gave Sans a  _ significant look _ , and the skeleton’s cheekbones had turned bright blue. He rushed the pair out of the store after that, Frisk looking back over their shoulder with a wave while Sans actually pushed them out the front door. 

     You grinned at the memory, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling of your room. 

     “I don’t think I’ll ever be that cool again.” You muttered, smile clear in your tone. Dahria tittered on her end, something about Wonderwall and stupid skeletons that was quickly shushed by Fuku. 

     “____, if that’s the coolest you’ll ever be, I’ve got some bad news for you.” The fire girl said, finally letting the laugh that had been brewing bubble up into her speech. 

     You gasped, going through the motion of pressing a hand to your chest in mock offense, “How could you! I am cool! Most of the time!” 

     The silence that followed that statement was deafening. 

     “Wow, tough crowd.” 

     “Uh-huh, listen ____,” Fuku crackled, tactfully changing the subject, “There’s a really cool band playing at my Dad’s next Friday - I really think you’ll like them. Wanna go?” 

     Dahria giggled, “Oooh, I hear they’re a  _ bone-a-fied  _ treat to listen to!” 

     Huh. Weird phrasing, but okay. “I don’t know, girls. I’m not usually the biggest fan of going out.. Can I think about it?” 

     You had barely finished your sentence before Fuku started speaking again, “Nooo ___ you have to come! It’s great dance music, with just enough rock in it that it’s just... Look, trust me, you’re going to LOVE this band. And,” You could just hear the flames above her eyes waggling like your own eyebrows had so many times before, “I have a feeling you’re going to really dig the bassist.” 

     Dahria lost it then, giggling into the phone almost violently. It was your turn to raise one eyebrow at your friends. They were in on it, which meant they were probably going to try and set you up with someone. Again. 

     “Maybe.” Your tone had a certain ring of finality to it. Just because you worked in a music store didn’t mean you were going to hit it off with every musician you met. Hell, most of them tried to use you for a discount on band supplies. It got old. Really fast. “I’m not going to promise anything, okay? Let's see how I feel after work and go from there, alright?” 

     “Fine.” Fuku said, “But I’m usually right about these things, okay?” 

     “Sure. Remember Jason?” You asked dryly. 

     “How was I supposed to know he could only play four chords--”

     “Rich?” 

     “Being allergic to cats is hardly grounds to end a relationship--”

      “Do you remember Anders?” You struck the final blow. That one had all sorts of ideas about magic, even going so far as to discuss plans to blow up the Human Relations Embassy - saying they were responsible for over a dozen monsters Falling Down. You reported him to the police and dumped him.

     Fuku groaned, frustrated. You had a smug grin on your face and Dahria was, wisely, staying silent. “Fine, fine you’ve made your point. I pick idiots.” 

     “___?” You acknowledged Dahria with a hum, “I really do think you’ll like this one.” 

     You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “I’ll think about it, okay?” 

 

★★★★★

 

     The bell chimed at the front door, alerting you to another customer, “I’ll be with you in a moment!” You called back, hoping they didn’t need anything to urgent before you turned to the customer you were already helping. “And... There, how’s that feel?” 

     The little Monster Kid in front of you did a little wiggle with their armless body. They were orange in coloring, with spikes going down their spine and wide, curious eyes. There was a metal contraption fastened around their head, and harmonica strapped into it. Seemingly satisfied with the fit of the headset, they cautiously hummed into the instrument, pulling a tentative chord through the air. 

     “It’s perfect!” They grinned, bouncing in place with excitement, “Not too tight, the instrument’s a little far away but that’s okay!! Means I can see a little better!” 

     You smiled right back at them, hip cocked to one side and arms akimbo, “Great! Wanna go with this one then?” 

     “Absolutely!” 

     You helped them out of the rig, gently placing everything back in the box and into a bag for them to carry on their tail. The two of you had been at this for weeks and had a system worked out, “Take it home, give it a test run. If it’s what you really like then come back in a week and we can worry about payment then, alright?” 

     “Okay!” They said back at you over their shoulder as you settled the bag in place, eyes bright and excited, “Thank you so much!!” 

     They spun in a circle, headbutting your hip gently in their approximation of a hug before sprinting for the door. You didn’t get a chance to run in front of them like you usually did though, and felt your stomach drop as MK got tangled in their own feet. 

     And suddenly they were surrounded by a soft blue glow, face screwed up in preparation for a hard fall just a hair’s breadth from the actual floor. Your hands covered your mouth, eyes wide as MK slowly opened one eye, then the other, then laughed as the turned to their left. 

     “Thanks, Mr. Sans! That was awesome!” 

     “Don’t mention it, buddy.” 

     The skeleton in question was over by the sound cables, a few gripped in his right hand with his left still in that hoodie pocket. Though his left eye seemed to flicker between blue and white. He winked at MK, and the monster suddenly floated up and righted themselves. A similar blue glow found the handle of the shop's entrance, pulling the door open long enough for MK to escape with the bag still swaying on their tail. 

     The bell chimed again as that same blue magic closed the door. 

     “hey, kiddo,” An all too familiar voice pulled you from your astonishment, meeting his carefully guarded expression with wide eyes of your own. 

     “How did you do that?” You breathed.

     “magic.” And there’s the little wiggle of his fingers. 

     You really should have seen that answer coming. 

     “That was,” You exhaled, leaning back on your counter, “Actually, really cool. Can all monsters do that?” 

     Sans shrugged, turning back to the wall of cables, “magic? sure, all monsters can do that. not everyone can do gravity magic though.” 

     “Wow.” 

     “yep.”

     “That’s really cool.” 

     “yep.” 

     A man of few words, you could respect that. Still, a job was a job. Even if you would rather goof around with a friend, “You finding everything you need okay?” 

     Sans nodded, leafing through the cables in his hands, “looks like it, yeah. except for this cable here.” He pulled out his other hand, a list held between his fingers. You moseyed on over to him, peeking at the list over his shoulder. 

     “Female XLR to TRS? You must be running custom equipment,” You hummed, moving away and scanning the wall in front of you, “I think we have some… The question is where I decided to stock them…” 

     Sans watched you while you hunted, tongue poking out between your teeth as you focused. That was a fun little quirk of yours, too focused to care that you looked like a kitten going  _ blep _ . It was almost…

     “There!” 

     You startled him out of his thoughts, smile faltering and eye sockets blinking as he reoriented himself facing you. You weren’t too far off, maybe three feet from him and eyes shining where you were pointing. A little victory in the grand scheme of things, but a victory nonetheless. Your enthusiasm teased a smile from him, one that’s softer than intended. It moved from his teeth to his eyes when your victorious grin turns into the beginnings of a pout. 

     “Hang on, I’ll have to grab a stool to reach them,” You murmured, already turning around to head back to the counter. 

     Sans blinked long and slow while he waved your words off, “or i could just, y’know…” He peeked his left eye open, light flaring bright blue. 

     You felt a strange tug in your chest, something tightening and pulling before latching into place with a pop. The edges of your vision went a little fuzzy and… blue? And, somehow, it almost smelled like the ocean and a bookstore all at once. Your lips slowly curled upwards, baring teeth in one of the widest grins to ever grace your face. Which grew wider still as you slowly began to float. You glanced at Sans, arms hovering to your side in an effort to balance, even though it was clear he was doing all the work. 

     “Sans. Holy shit.” You breathed, watching the floor get further away from you, “You can make people float? That’s amazing.” 

     Sans shrugged as he gently moved his hand in a horizontal motion, “s’no big deal. just a bit of gravity magic.” 

     You made a noise of disbelief, gesturing from him to yourself to the floor and back again, “Seriously? Not a big deal? This is so freaking  _ cool _ ! It’s… It’s…. Okay so I can’t think of a pun but it’s  _ awesome _ .” 

     The bone below his eyes grew a little blue while he nuzzled the furry rim of his hoodie, trying to hide from the world, “could you grab that cable for me?” Aw, he’s embarrassed! 

     You decided to save the teasing for another time, maybe once the pair of you were closer as friends. Not everyone liked compliments, it would be easy to go too far in an effort to praise him, and that could really backfire. You enjoyed having this funny little skeleton in your life, you had a strong feeling the pair of you were a good match -  _ friend  _ match. Regardless of what Fuku thought. 

     You grab the cable with a grin, enjoying the feeling of your hair floating as he slowly lowered you back to the floor. You even were real quick about cashing him out - and no one could prove you gave him your discount. That flight deserved something. 

     “You sure you don’t need a bag for all those?” You eyed the pile of cable on the counter, rolling your lips together. “There’s a fair amount of them, your pockets can’t be that big.”

     “you’d be surprised.” He said with a lazy wink, “magic does all kinds of things.” 

     “You definitely have to show me sometime. Can Papyrus do tha--” Oops, that was your phone alarm - a certain funky little cowboy reminding you that it was  _ High Noon _ and therefore time for your lunch break. You offered him a quick apologetic grin as you turned it off, then had a thought. Maybe he would be willing….

     Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

     “Hey Sans?”

     “hey ____?”

     You leaned forward on the counter, smiling that bright smile and eyes shining, “Wanna go get lunch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My food alarm is actually Jesse McCree saying "It's High Noon" and I think it's SO FUNNY and it does remind me to eat I had to put it in there okay. 
> 
> Feed me comments! They make me happy!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise lunch outing with Sans! There's some Reader background in here, some Monster background, and a bit of flirting.

     Muffet’s shop was the best place to grab lunch at this hour, just busy enough there was a pleasant hum of conversation without being too overwhelming, and the food was phenomenal if a little expensive. That was Miss Muffet for you though, determined to make a profit while being one of the sweetest monsters around. For a spider, anyway. You had been a little surprised when Sans had actually agreed to grab lunch with you, even more so when you poked your head into your dad’s workshop to let him know you were headed out and he offered to man the store so you could have a longer break than normal. And his eyes were definitely twinkling with something… 

     You ordered the soup of the day, butternut squash and apple that went down smooth and warm. Sans had ordered a sandwich, ham and cheese with a few veggies. And ketchup. Not on the sandwich, no, he had looked Muffet in the eye and ordered a bottle of ketchup. Judging by the look in her many eyes it wasn’t the first time he pulled this kind of nonsense either. 

     “So,” you began as you stirred the soup before you, “Full disclosure, didn’t think you’d actually agree to lunch today. Not that I’m not glad that you did!” You pointed your spoon at him, “Just… I dunno. People usually have lunch plans.” 

    “not me.” Sans shrugged, “i like to play life by ear these days. i got so used to things being predictable that going with the flow is neat.” 

      You hummed, slurping a spoonful of soup as quietly as you could, “Were things really that regimented in the underground?” 

     Sans didn’t answer you, not right away. The silence went on long enough you glanced up at him, hesitation written plain on your face. He was looking at you with this pensive sort of expression, like he was judging you and your sins, trying to decide if you were worthy of his time. It made you… a little nervous?

     “You don’t have to answer,” You said around a swallow of soup, “I get it, Underground is still a sensitive topic for a lot of Monsters, I don’t blame you.” 

     Sans closed his eyes, smile relaxing until it was non-existent. Eventually, he leaned forward, sandwich forgotten over one side and ketchup cradled in his hands. “tell you what, kid. lets play a little game of twenty questions. i’ll answer whatever questions you have about the underground, music, and your truly,” he gestured down at himself with a wink, “if you answer my questions about your life. 

     “A question for a question?” You clarified, “And that one doesn’t count.”

     There was the amused grin you were growing to enjoy, he nodded, “a question for a question.”

     You nodded, sticking out your hand, “Deal. Shake on it.” 

     “shake on it?”

     “A deal is a deal, Sans. I want to make sure we’re both honest about it.” You offered a soft smile, lowering your voice every so slightly, “If I ask something too personal, or uncomfortable or whatever, you don’t have to answer. I won’t force anything out of you.” 

    “.....deal.” he reached out (huh, no mittens today, you missed that observation in the store earlier) and shook your hand. His bones were, actually, quite warm. 

     You let your smile grow wider, nodding and turning back to your food, “So, your idea, you ask first.”  

     Sans hummed in acknowledgment, finally reaching for his sandwich. You tried not to be too obvious in watching as he ate. His teeth had this strange habit of never really parting when he spoke - sure, the edges moved a bit, and he obviously could use his smile to express himself, but you had never seen them open, so how did he eat? There was a small cracking sound, and you watched as he basically pulled his mouth open, teeth all straight except for some extra sharp incisors. Was that a blue tongue?

     Your next spoonful of soup missed your mouth, falling back into the bowl with a _plop_. Sans eyed you with amusement alight in his eyes, making a point to stick one very lithe and very blue tongue out at you before taking another bite. You felt the back of your neck heat up, this time going back to your soup with way more determination than before. At least he thought it was funny and wasn’t insulted?

     “So,” he started, flipping the top of the ketchup open, “You and your dad run the shop, with special assistance from the cat, but you mentioned your mother was a violinist up north. What happened?”

     You didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to swirl the soup around in figure eights with your spoon. He was patient and didn’t force the answer. You inhaled, releasing the breath with a sigh as you looked up at him with a sad smile. 

    “My parents are divorced, about twelve years now, actually.. Wow.” You leaned back in your chair, food forgotten for the moment, “They still love each other, I know that. But Mom… Well, she learned somewhere along the way that she wasn’t into guys. There was a conductor who brought his sister to a few rehearsals, she and Mom really hit it off. There were a lot of tears when she told dad, but he understood. And some fights too… It was a rough time. The two of them live together now, Dad and I run the shop. Mom pulled her name from the ownership papers, so it’s just me and him.”

     Sans blinked, setting his food down with a sigh, “jeez kid, i’m sorry.”

     You waved him off, shaking your head, “Nah, it’s okay. It happened a long time ago. We still talk all the time, so do her and dad. The ring he wears on that cord around his neck? That’s their wedding ring. Mom wears hers on a chain too. I hear the new wife was really cool about it.”

     Sans hummed. You looked up just in time to watch him squirt ketchup into his mouth _straight from the bottle_. 

     Ketchup. 

     As a drink. 

     From the bottle.

     You froze, halfway between disbelief, disgust, and maybe a little humor? Sans lifted one brow ridge at you, eyelight twinkling as he squeezed the bottle a little harder and another ribbon of pureed tomato smoothie shot into his mouth. You set your spoon down, looking at him with an incredulous look on your face. 

    “what?”

     “You just drank ketchup.” You deadpanned. 

     “and?” Oh, that grin of his was reaching shit eating levels now. 

     “You just… you know what? Nevermind.” You said, shaking your head and laughing, “I feel like I shouldn’t be surprised.”

     Sans chuckled, eyes closed and blue just barely tinting his cheekbones. Was that a skeletal blush? You grinned at him, rolling your eyes, “Alright. My turn for a question.”

     You leaned forward, arms crossed on the table between you and fixing him with the most intense look you could muster. He leaned forward in response, narrowing his eye sockets. 

     “shoot.”

      “Why bass?”

     He blinked, face going blank for a moment, “that’s your question?”

     You nodded, “Yup. Why bass? There are a million other instruments out there. And no offense, but I totally would have pegged you for more of a triangle guy.” 

     He actually laughed out loud at that one, dragging a hand down his face while you watched him with a smirk. “alright, that’s fair. triangle would be a lot less work.” 

     You threw your hands up with a laugh, “That’s what I thought! You seem like a chill guy, but bass takes practice. So why?”

     “honestly? Because papyrus wanted me to.” He said with a shake of his head, “he was adventuring in the dump with undyne one day and they found my bass, the one i brought into the shop. he was so excited, he had finally found something for me so i could play with him and undyne when they had their ‘rehearsals,’” He made air quotes with his fingers, “i learned it for him.” 

     You had shifted so your chin was resting on your hand, one finger pointing at him with an easy grin on your lips, “You’re the big brother.” 

     “what gave it away?”

     “You lit up when you mentioned your brother,” You said with a shrug, “Doesn’t take much to follow that train of thought and figure out who’s older. Though the height thing is seriously misleading.” 

    “heh, yeah. we get that a lot.” Sans chuckled. 

     The pair of you went back and forth for the better part of an hour, talking over any and everything. Twenty questions was a great way to get to know him, he smiled more freely, especially when you could tell the question you had just asked was almost too much. His smile would fade, eyelight shrinking and almost going out in some cases. But he never backed down from a question you asked, and you didn’t from the questions he asked. He asked about your early days in school, why viola was better for you than other instruments, how many you played, and where you thought was the best place to see the stars - which was a little field on the edge of town, away from the light pollution and just sheltered enough you couldn’t see the cars as they drove by. 

     You asked about the Underground, mostly why music was so important to monsters. 

     “You guys really use music to express everything?” You had asked, condensing the dishes the two of you had used, “Everything everything?”

     “everything everything.” He had repeated back, “not every monster has a mouth or vocal cords. music meant that we could all communicate with each other. i used to sing all the time.”

     You oooh’d, glancing down at him as you placed your dishes in the bus tub, “I bet you have a wonderful singing voice. If you were ever up to it, I’d love to hear you sing sometime.” 

     Sans shook his head, retreating into the fuzzy rim of his hoodie, “no can do, kid. i don’t sing anymore.”  

     “I bet you can~”

     “not a chance.”

     “No?” You pouted, holding the door open for him. 

     “nope.” 

     You looked at him with the biggest frown you could manage, hoping some good old fashioned puppy dog eyes would convince him otherwise. He had such a low speaking voice that had a rhythm on it’s own. Listening to him sing just might be the end of you. 

     Sans gave you A Look, one that said to drop it because he definitely wasn’t going to be singing any time soon. You sighed, throwing your head back dramatically and pressing the back of your hand to your forehead.

     “I might never know the wonders of listening to a monster sing. Woe is me.” You sighed again, peeking at him. He looked amused at least but wasn’t saying anything. Darn. 

     “monsters don’t really sing in front of humans.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “not usually, and not with our full voices, anyway. they tend to have more than a bit of magic in them.”

     You blinked, relaxing your pose and falling into step beside him, “Really? I mean, I guess that makes sense, being made of magic and all. I bet it’s mesmerizing.” 

     He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, “i suppose. last time human’s listened to it they tried to imprison the monster that sang, and when they hurt him and the emotions behind the music became too much…” 

     “...The emotions became too much? What do you mean by that?” You asked, slowing your pace. 

      “they didn’t wake up.” 

    You stopped in place, looking at him with eyebrows raised. He sighed, finally slowing to a halt a few paces before you, “they fell asleep, something about the monster’s song put around twenty humans to sleep, except for this one child that was sick as a dog. the monster left, taking the sick child with them, humans got angry, and boom. war.” 

     “Huh.” you hummed, looking at your feet and rolling your lips, “I’ve never heard the story from that perspective before.” 

      Sans shrugged. Again. He did that a lot. “s’not like it’s a secret, it’s been over a hundred years since we were on the surface. doesn’t surprise me that a lot of you don’t know the stories.” 

     “So what happened to the humans?” You followed up, resuming your walk beside him.

     “they never woke up.” The lights had vanished from his eye sockets, voice monotonous and tired, “they weren’t dead or anything, not at first. they just slept, and kept sleeping.”

     That was vaguely ominous. You were starting to feel a little nervous about the whole singing thing, as curious as you were if it could put you to sleep and you could just never wake up? Maybe there was a reason monsters didn’t really sing… A hand on your forearm pulled you from your silence, bringing your thoughts back to the present. You glanced at Sans, hesitantly meeting his eyes with an apprehensive grin. His eye sockets were brimming with concern, teeth no longer curved upwards in a grin, but downwards in the closest thing you had seen to a frown on his face. He squeezed your arm once, silently asking you to stay looking at him. 

     “there has to be the intention behind the music for it to do anything.” His voice was pitched low, intended for just the two of you, “if i sang just to sing, nothing would happen. if i snag to put you to sleep, you would probably fall asleep. that’s just how magic works - it’s the same reason why some monsters can take several hits, and others it only takes one before they’re dust.” 

     You swallowed, nodding, “Yeah. Yeah, that all makes sense. I just… I didn’t think about magic as being something so dangerous.  I had a boyfriend who was super into it all, just after you guys surfaced. He made it sound so wonderful, I guess his words stuck around a bit more than I thought.” 

     Sans’ hand tightened for a moment, then released your arm to find it’s home back in the pocket of his hoodie, “yeah. i get that. i can tell you this tough,” He looked up at you, the corners of his grinned curved in a soft grin, “you keep being you, and no monster’s going to sing you to sleep. promise.” 

     You scoffed, looking at him through the corner of your eye, “I thought you said you didn’t like to make promises?” 

     “what can i say?” He shrugged, eyes closed and grin wider than ever, “guess i’m making an exception for you.” 

     You laughed, the knot in your stomach finally untangling. You believed him. If Sans said no one was going to sing you to sleep, you trusted him. It sounded like there was a lot more to read up on about magic though. Maybe the next time Frisk came in you could ask them. They were the human who had spent the most time around magic, after all, maybe they could explain a bit more about how it all worked to you, from a human perspective. You made a mental note to ask them next time you saw them. 

     The pair of you walked in silence back to your store, hovering outside the main entrance. 

     “so,” Sans broke the silence first, “boyfriend, huh?”

     You huffed, “Not currently. That one turned out to be a little crazy.” You emphasized the word by tracing a circle around your temple. 

      Sans nodded, “cool, cool.” He glanced at you, then focused his gaze on his pink slippers, “me neither.” 

     You didn’t feel the grin on your face grow a little wider, and Sans certainly didn’t see it, “Cool, cool.” You mimicked, gently shoving him with your shoulder. 

     “Hey Sans?” You said, waiting for him to look up at you, “Thanks. For grabbing lunch with me. _Tibia_ honest, you’re a pretty _hip_ dude.” You poked at the body part in question. 

     He chuckled, looking at you with that lazy wink of his again, “you’re not too bad yourself, kid. though that joke wasn’t very _humerus.”_

You giggled, “Ah, you got me. I’m a little rusty when it comes to the anatomy of a skeleton. You’ll have to help me brush up on it sometime.” 

     Blue crept onto Sans’ cheeks - well, most of his face, if you were being honest, “...’kay.” 

     “I’ve gotta get back to work,” You said, chucking a thumb over your shoulder, “But I’ll see you around, okay?” 

     He nodded, still unwilling to talk. Huh. All you had asked for was a study session. The two of you and a textbook, it was for a valiant cause! Puns were always something to brush up on. Maybe you’d do the research on your own, surprise him with some good ones when he least expected it. You waved at him, walking backward into the shop. The bell above jingled and you made it all the way to the counter before cursing yourself and turning to run back out the door. 

     “Sans! Hang on!” You called, reaching out with one hand. He was only a few feet away, turning to look at you with one brow-bone raised. 

    You jogged up to him pulling your cell phone out of your pocket, “You got a tele _bone_?”

     He grinned, nodding and taking your phone from your hands and quickly tapping out a new contact. At least, he was, until a blonde bunny squealed and hopped up, engulfing him in a bone crushing hug. You took a step back, blinking at the pair. 

     “Sansy it has been AGES! Where have you been?” She squealed, pulling back just enough to look him in the face, “I have been looking all over for you!” 

     He chuckled weakly, glancing at you with an apologetic expression, “hey, lulu. been busy?”

     “Oh, absoLUTEY!” She squealed, her voice was so high pitched it was almost painful, booping the space where his nose would be, “But let’s not talk about me, when’s your next SHOW?” You coughed awkwardly, and the rabbit blinked at you, immediately sizing you up with a skeptical look in her eyes, “And who is this? I thought you didn’t like humans.” 

     “_____. I’m _____.” You said with a forced smile as you offered your hand, “Sans was walking me back to work after lunch. I didn’t catch your name?”

     She looked at your hand, bunny nose wrinkling, but she didn’t take it, “Lulu.” She said, then turned her back to you. Wow. Rude. “Sansy, come on, you haven’t had a show in forEVER! When are you playing Grillby’s again?”

     “whenever the kid decides they want to.” He answered, noncommittal as he pried her away from him, “the same answer i gave you last time, lulu.” 

     She pouted, tracing a paw down the side of his face, “Boo, you really should saddle up and play some more without the kid. Your band was so much better without them.” 

     The lights vanished from Sans’ eyes for a moment as he stepped backward, making a point to go around Lulu and stand by your side, “i dunno, it’s nice to have someone else in the spotlight for once. excuse me, i’m going to finish walking ___ back to work.” 

     Wow, this rabbit was putting in _work_ . She sighed again, fluttering her eyelashes and clasping her arms in front of her. A super subtle move to push whatever bunny breasts she had forward. Did rabbits have breasts? Normal rabbits had teets for nursing their young, but with the magic and everything Underground, did she actually have---- NOPE. You shook your head free of _that_ train of thought. That was _not_ something you needed wandering around in the back of your mind. 

     “Alrwight, well, I’ll see you around, Sansy darling,” She hopped forward, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. It almost looked like he was going to let her, but he sidestepped at the last moment, sending the rabbit staggering for a few paces. She recovered, smoothing out her pants and throwing a glare at you. You offered her a smile and a wave in return. 

     “bye.” 

     “Bye Lulu, it was nice to meet you.” You called after her as she hopped away. You definitely weren’t imagining the glare she gave you over her shoulder. As soon as she was out of earshot you giggled, looking at Sans. “Secret admirer, huh?” 

     “it’s not really a secret.” He sighed, shaking his head, “wish she would take no for an answer.”

     “She’s cute.” You shrugged. Sans turned to look at you with disbelief on his face, you grinned, waggling your eyebrows, “Is this the right time for a _bone zone_ joke?”

     All traces of expression vanished from Sans’ face as he shuddered. When he opened his sockets again, those white lights were shining with betrayal. You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. 

     “No bone zone jokes. Got it.” 

     Sans rolled his eyes, handing you your phone back with one more contact in the address book. You thanked him, offering refuge in the music shop if he ever needed to escape his adoring fans again. He had politely refused, probably fed up with your shenanigans for the day, but it kept you smiling for the rest of your shift. 

 

★★★★★

 

 **[ unknown: ]** gotta say, I expected a more original name from you

 

     It took a full five minutes for Sans to muster the energy to move and reach for his phone. It was on the other end of the couch, the couch he was currently working on becoming one with. Papyrus was at Undyne’s for band practice, along with the rest of the gang, and since his was still in the shop there was no sense in tagging along. He never fell out of practice. One of his gifts, as Papyrus put it. No matter how little he practiced, he never messed up his part. Not once. Bass came naturally to Sans, it just fit him as a monster, resonated with his Soul in so many ways. Made it easier to express that it ever was when he sang. He taught Frisk guitar when one of Papyrus’ traps had broken their ukulele, helped Undyne write the piano parts with their music, even showed Alphys where to start with all the sound tech stuff. 

     Music was like quantum physics. Sans just got it. 

     He missed his bass. He missed band rehearsals. So why did he want the repairs to take a little longer? 

 

 **[ unknown: ]** Sans? It’s ____. For the record. Hope I’m not interrupting!

 **[ sans: ]** bone boy isnt original enough 4 u?

 **[ music girl: ]** I was expecting more… punnage?

 **[ sans: ]** they cant all b winners

 **[ music girl: ]** Guess not. What’re you up to? 

 **[ sans: ]** nothing.

 **[ music girl: ]** Ah. Well, I’ll let you get back to it then! Just figured I’d text so you had my number too.

 

     Sans smiled at his phone, then checked his message history with Frisk. He hadn’t been entirely honest with Lulu earlier, his band did have a show coming up next Friday. Lulu wasn’t someone he wanted at those shows, she screamed and danced and basically tried to get into his pants the entire night. You would at least appreciate the music itself. He hoped. 

     He pressed the call button before he could really process what he had done. 

     “Knock knock.” You answered. Despite himself, he grinned, sinking a little further into the couch as he spoke. 

     “who’s there?”

     “I don’t know,” You snickered, “You called me!” 

     Sans huffed out a breath of air, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, “kid, that was awful.”

     He could hear your smile through the phone line, “Hey man, I thought you appreciated bad jokes. I’ll do better next time.”

     “knock knock.” He asked. You tittered on the other end, and he heard some shuffling around. 

     “Who’s there?” 

     “candice.”

      “Candice who?” That was genuine interest in your tone, you must not have heard this one before. 

     “candice tell you something? I wasn’t entirely honest with lulu earlier today.” He said, too tired and comfortable to beat around the bush, “i do have a show coming up. next friday at grillbys. you should come.”

     You hummed over the phone, thinking it over, “Next Friday? Mmm, Fuku had something she wanted me to go to, but honestly, she’s probably just going to try and set me up with another loser.” You laughed, mostly to yourself, “If I’m free, sure. I’ll come to your show. Text me the details or I’ll forget.” 

     “ ‘kay.” Sans grinned wide enough it almost hurt. He was warm all over, comfy in the couch and hoodie and you had just said you would try and come to his show. His band’s show. That meant a lot to him. 

     “Is that all you wanted to ask?” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, he blinked, thinking of another question. But nothing came. 

     “guess so.”

     You huffed into the phone, “You could have just texted me that.” 

     “too much effort.” 

     “Taking lazy to new levels, I see. Good to know.” He could hear the amusement in your tone, thank the stars you were easy going, it made you easy to hang around. “Oh! While I’ve got you on the phone, your bass should be ready the day after tomorrow. Just need to seal and restring it.” 

     “oh great. i really didn’t want to have to borrow one for friday,” he sighed, sitting up a little straighter as he heard the front door of his house open. “papyrus just got home, time for dinner. talk later?”

     “You can’t even use full sentences?” You teased, giggling, “Sure thing, Sans. See you soon!” 

     He hadn’t felt this light in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because I felt bad about being late on the last one! You might get another one on Friday cause suddenly I have some MUSE for this story!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You play the viola, Sans gets his bass back, and Papyrus joins the girls for some coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY this took a little longer than I had promised in the last chapter - I ended up with strep and mono at the same time, and then had to go to the hospital I was so dehydrated. It's been a rough couple weeks. Enjoy the new chapter though!

 

     Today had a melancholy sort of vibe to it, any enthusiasm and joy you had was definitely a little forced, sapping all your energy out bit by bit. Even the weather seemed sad, with an overcast sky and hardly any sunshine. It’s almost like the entire town was feeling a little sad with you. Today was the day Sans was supposed to pick up his bass, and for some reason, your heart took that to mean it was the last time you would ever get to see him. Ever. 

     And the two of you were finally becoming friends. 

     You sighed, leaning further forward and resting your chin on the counter. There weren’t even any customers to distract you from your thoughts today, just you and a sleepy feline. Whispurr was absolutely no help, every time you tried to play with her she just meeped and rolled over, uninterested. 

     “Ugh,” You groaned, letting yourself sink to the floor for a moment. A whole day of work, maybe three customers, and no sign of your favorite skeletons. Wonderful. You hauled yourself back to your feet, deciding it was better to walk around the store than sit at the counter and be bored. At least this way there was some movement happening. 

     As usual, you found yourself over by the classical stringed instruments. Specifically that viola you were so fond of. Gently, carefully, you pull it from where it hung on the wall, lifting it and holding it in a loose first position. Oh, it felt wonderful in your hands, on your neck. You glanced around the store, right hand already reaching for one of the many bows hanging on the wall. There weren’t any customers, probably wouldn’t be for a while, it couldn’t hurt to play a little…. Right? 

     Ah, what the hell. Better to carpe that diem than not at all. 

     You grinned, pulling over one of the guitar stools and sitting down. A little rosin on the bow and you were in business, warming up your hands with a few scales, arpeggios, and other little exercises. It felt good to play, like a muscle you hadn’t stretched in a while that desperately wanted it. You find yourself grinning, swaying in your seat and letting whatever little ditty you were fiddling around with move you as it saw fit. Eventually, the fiddle tunes feel played out, too fast and cherry for what you’re actually feeling. Maybe some more soulful music would kick you out of this funk? 

     There’s a long moment where you sit on the stool, frowning as you searched your memory for something better suited to your mood. Maybe some Mozart? Or that Rebecca Clarke piece you used for many an audition? No, they were challenging pieces to play, sure, but they all played on the lighter end of things. You wanted something heavier. 

     You could always play something of your own. 

     That idea softened the muscles on your face. Of course, that piece you had written when your parents had first gotten divorced, the one that had earned you a scholarship to a school you never attended. That would fit quite nicely with your mood. 

     It demanded that you stand though, embrace the melody with your entire body. So you did, setting the stool back in its original position and closing your eyes. You raised the viola, set the bow on the strings, and played. 

     Behind you,  Sans the Skeleton stood in awe as he listened to you play a melody that soared through the shop, filling every corner of the space and then some. He listened in awe as you told a story with every moment of vibrato your fingers coaxed from the instrument, he watched as you swayed, eyes closed, reliving a moment in your life that had all but torn you apart. Sans listened to every single note, afraid to move an inch and make a sound that would pull you from the daze you were in. Whatever you were doing wasn’t just a human playing an instrument, whatever you were doing was… 

     It was magic. 

     In a blink of an eye, Sans was just a little closer to you, sitting on the stool you had discarded. It was a better angle to watch your left hand as your fingers moved across the neck of the instrument, to watch the little dance that they did as you lost yourself for a few minutes. 

     It was beautiful. 

     As the music reached a crescendo, more sound and emotion filling up the shop than Sans would have felt possible, he caught a glimmer of something in the corner of your eye. Right around the same time, the corners of his own began to prickle. So that’s what a divorce felt like. The end of the song was coming, the part where all the emotions resolved themselves and settled into something manageable. You were going to need to sit down after that, he realized, blinking back over by the counter. His heart was - no, no his Soul felt fuller than it had in years, filled with just a little more hope than he was used to. The awed expression on his face turned soft, a smile just beginning to appear on his face. Everything softened just a hair more as you slowed down, drawing out the last note for as long as possible. 

     You kept your fingers on the neck of the instrument until you heard the last warble of the vibrato fade from your ears. You grinned, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. Your arm relaxed, lowering the viola to your side as you changed your hold so it could carry the bow as well, leaving a hand free to wipe at your eyes. Yeah, that had been exactly what you needed. Sometimes, you just needed an excuse to let some emotions out, what better way to do that than play some music? 

     “wow.” 

      You yelped, jumping and whirling to face the counter where Sans stood. He was smiling, but beyond that you couldn’t read the expression on his face - just that it was a good one. You let out a startled little laugh, shaking your head as you made a point to lower your free hand from your chest. 

     “Holy heck, I didn’t hear you come in,” you said, willing your heart to slow down, “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.” Back to their hangers went the viola and bow, and you whispered a silent thank you before turning to face Sans again. 

     He shook his head, still looking at you with that odd expression on his face, “kid, i would have waited a lot longer if it meant i got to listen to you play like that.” 

     “Heheheheh,” Was the back of your neck hot all of a sudden, “Uh, thanks. I guess?” Nope, nope nope nope now wasn’t the time for compliments. That expression of his was doing weird things to your tummy, like somersaults or butterflies or goodness knows what else. Uh oh. Not good. New topic time! “Your bass is done!” You called out, perhaps a little too loud as your ears burned. You scurried behind the counter, pointedly not making eye contact with Sans as you hauled his instrument up for him to look at. 

     “New case for you too, on the house. I may have spilled some wood stain on the old one because I’m a klutz,” you offered an apologetic grin, unzipping the case and displaying the repaired instrument for its owner, “Here she is! New strings, new wiring, new tuning pegs, we fixed the dials and relaid the frets, plus some body repair and some color retouching - that part I did. She shouldn’t sound too different, a little brighter, maybe, because of the strings, but I’m sure you’ll break those in in no time.” 

     You were rambling, but it didn’t matter. His attention had finally pulled from you to his bass with a brand new expression of shock on his bones. 

     “she doesn’t even look like the same instrument i found in the dump.” He whispered, skeletal hands venturing from his pockets and lifting the bass into his arms. He pulled the strap over his neck, settling into the weight of it with ease and checking it out from a more familiar angle, “got an amp i can try this out on?” 

     “Way ahead of you,” you said, twirling a cable in one hand and nodding at the amp you had set up at the end of the counter hours ago in preparation, “Have at it, daddy-o.” 

     He gave you a funny look at the nickname, equal parts confused and amused, but it seemed music took the forefront today. For both of you. He plugged in, played around with the knobs and the tuning for a bit, and went to town. He played some bassline you didn’t know, but it was funky as heck. You grinned, resting your chin on your hand and watching him play. It was the most relaxed you had seen him since you met him. His weight was set low, grin lopsided and eye light literally twinkling as he played. He looked like a completely different skeleton. 

     You could see why Lulu wanted him to play again. It was quite a sight. 

     Sans must have felt your eyes on him. He glanced at you, one brow bone raised and his grin growing more mischievous as he plucked out a particularly complicated bass diddy. 

     You blinked, “Did you just bang out Rush like it was no big deal?” 

     “Maybe.” Sans drawled, grin growing wider. 

     “Sans. That was YYZ. You just… What?” You laughed, more than a little impressed, “You realize humans look at that as one of the hardest basslines to play. Ever. Period.”  

     He grinned, shifting his stance to look at you and let the bass rest comfortably in front of him, “what, like it’s hard?” Oh my gods he was playing it and holding a conversation with you. What?!

     You just shook your head, “Wow. You are way better of a bassist than I would have thought.” 

     Sans chuckled, taking a little bow as he put his instrument away, “s’not so hard. it’s just all rhythm, maybe a bit of harmony. should hear me with the rest of my band.” 

     “After that preshow? Rabid wolves couldn’t keep me from seeing you live, I’ll be there.” 

     You were pretty sure the wide grin on his face mirrored your own if the pain in your cheeks was anything to go by. You both stood there for a strangely long amount of time, lost in your own world as you both grinned like idiots at each other. A rather loud meow from Whispurr made you jump, especially as she leaped onto the counter and demanded chin scratches, which you were happy to provide. 

     “so,“ Sans began as he zipped his case closed, “how’d you learn to play viola like that?”

     You huffed a little laugh, absentmindedly scratching Whispurr as she wound around your hand, “My mom taught me. She was slash is First Chair violin for the Capitol Region Symphony Orchestra, has been for as long as I can remember.  It’s all she does for a living, so when I was old enough to tag along she decided it was time I learn how to play an instrument of my own.” Whispurr headbutted your chin, pulling a smile to your lips, “I started on violin, but hated that damn e-string. Didn’t discover viola until I was in school. Picked it up and never looked back.” 

     Sans hummed, watching you with a fond smile on his face that he was careful not to let you see, “not a lot of kids would’ve dropped violin, not with the chance to be in the spotlight.” 

     You shrugged, “I’m not the biggest fan of being the leading player. I make a better support, y’know?” 

     He knew. 

     Sans mumbled something under his breath as he shuffled in place. His hands went back into his hoodie pocket before he spoke again, “wish i could play something like that, you got some real talent, kid.” 

     You blew a raspberry and waved him off, “Nah. That piece? I wrote that when my parents finally got divorced. It’s okay.” 

     Sans fixed you with a blank look, “kid, that piece told a story i could feel in my Soul. do you know how hard it is for a human to put that much into their music? it’s one step shy of magic.” 

     “Mmhmm, sure,” you said, pointedly ignoring the butterflies that sprung up at the mention of the M-word, “Humans can’t do magic, but thanks for making me feel better about it.”

      You heard Sans say your name firmly, “i don’t give compliments freely. take it. if i could play like that i’d never stop.”

     That gave you an idea! You slammed a hand on the counter, startling Whispurr (and Sans, of course) as you fixed Sans with a determined look. “I’ll teach you! You can come in and I’ll teach you scales and melodies and all the different finger positions, it’ll be great!”

     “_____.” 

     “Sans.” 

     “i can’t play classical instruments.” He looked like he was fighting back laughter. 

     You nodded, “Sure you can! You just haven’t learned how yet.”

     Sans shook his head, “kid, you’re not understanding. i physically can’t play classical instruments,” He took one of his boney hands out of his pocket and waggled his phalanges for emphasis, “those puny strings are no match for my boney fingers, they’ll break faster than i can replace them.” 

     You puffed out your cheeks and pouted, frowning. He did have a point, and strings tended to climb in price pretty rapidly… This obstacle would take some thought but that was okay. You were determined to find a way to make it work.

 

★★★★★

 

     “WHAT? What do you mean you’re not going to meet this guy?” Fuku is burning a brighter green than usual, more than a little upset that you were bailing on her this evening. 

     You shielded your eyes, leaning back from the bright heat of your best friend, “I’ve got other plans! That I made and I want to follow through on!” 

     Fuku crackled, coal-black eyes narrowing and hips cocked to one side, “What could be more important than your friend trying to set you up?” 

     You motioned for her to back off and she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment and breathing. The brightness of her flames died down after a moment, returning to their normal levels so you could look her in the eyes again, “Supporting a friend’s band. Sans invited me to a show he’s doing that same night, I’d rather support friends I’ve already got than meet some new idiot and suffer through another awkward introduction.” 

     “Sans invited you?” Fuku was seriously surprised if the sudden flicker of her flames was anything to go by. That didn’t happen often at all, she was usually so mellow, nothing frazzled her flames, “Seriously? Are we talking about the same Sans here?” 

     You hummed, “Short skeleton, maybe yay tall, wears novelty slippers and a blue hoodie?” 

     Fuku’s eyes widened and she hummed back at you, “Wow, he must like you. Usually, he doesn’t really get along with humans.” 

     That caught your attention, your brows furrowed and you hovered outside of Muffett’s shop, “Really? Why?”

     Fuku shrugged, “Dunno. He just doesn’t. That’s a story you’d have to get from him or Frisk.”

     You gave another thoughtful hum, stepping into the shop and blinking as your eyes adjusted to the difference in light. You made a mental note to ask Frisk about that rumor next time they dropped by the shop, maybe they could shed a little light on the subject. You didn’t get to dwell in your thoughts long, Dahria was waiting in the corner, waving and trying to get your attention. The weird part was, she wasn’t alone. Seemed a certain skeleton had decided to crash your friend group’s weekly coffee date. 

     You waved back, offering a bemused smile in their direction as you ordered your usual hot chocolate. Muffett, being the professional that she was, had your drinks ready before you had even ordered. Man, she was good at what she did. 

     “GOOD AFTERNOON, HUMAN. I DO HOPE I AM NOT INTRUDING, YOUR FRIEND COMPLIMENTED MY SWEATER AND WE GOT TO TALKING AND NOW YOU ARE HERE!” Papyrus said, waving much too enthusiastically for the little cafe’s atmosphere. It’s a welcome surprise and pulls a genuine smile from your lips. 

     “You could never intrude, Papyrus,” You replied as you settled into a seat on one side of him, “In fact, I think we can consider you one of the girls from now on.” 

     Papyrus’s eyes glittered (Literally? There were anime sparkles in his eyes?) and he clasped his face in both hands, “REALLY? WOWIE!! I’VE NEVER BEEN ONE OF THE GIRLS BEFORE!” 

     Dahria grinned and glanced at Fuku, the deciding vote. The fire elemental looked at you, then Dahria, then back at Papyrus. He had changed his expression and had the biggest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen. You cleverly disguised a giggle behind the rim of your hot chocolate, one eyebrow raised at the third and final member of your girl gang. 

     Fuku closed her eyes and sighed, “Papyrus, if you’re gonna be one of the girls, there are a few ground rules we have got to lay down first.” 

     The skeleton’s expression changed, suddenly very serious, “OF COURSE, FUKU. WHAT ARE THESE RULES?” 

    “They’re not so bad,” She crackled as she leaned back in her chair with her hands behind her head, “Basically, whatever happens at girl talk, stays at girl talk. What happens in the group chat, stays in the group chat, those sorts of things. You can invoke Girl Talk at any private moment, and whatever the contents of that conversation are stay between you and the other people. Period.” The flames of her hair wavered as she leaned forward, “And if you break the rules, you’re out. No second chances.” 

     “DEAL.” 

     Wow, not a second of hesitation. You were impressed, and greeted him with a smile, “Welcome to the club, Papyrus.” Dahria was squeeing in the corner, clapping her hands together excitedly and bouncing in her seat. She liked making friends, especially monster ones. Not because she preferred monsters, but because they had better stories to tell. Better stories meant her editor was happy. It was a win-win, mostly. 

     Papyrus, for his part, looked absolutely delighted. He was mirroring your pose with a glass of milk between his hands, and apparently, he couldn’t wait to get started. His eyes locked on you and found yourself suddenly frozen in place, drink halfway to your lips. 

     “...What?” 

     “SANS SEEMED QUITE PLEASED WHEN HE RETURNED FROM RETRIEVING HIS BASS YESTERDAY.” Papyrus mused as his grin turned sly, “I HAVE NOT SEEN MY BROTHER THAT RELAXED IN SOME TIME.”

     You made a little sound of understanding as you finished your sip and set the drink on the table, “He got his instrument back after almost two weeks, he probably was just relieved to have it back in one piece. Especially given the state it was in when you two dropped it off.” 

     “HE WAS SINGING WHEN HE GOT HOME.” 

     “He sang and I missed it?” You exclaimed at the same time Fuku spoke up - “Sans was singing again?”

     You looked from Fuku to Papyrus and back again, “I’m missing something. Sans told me monsters didn’t sing for humans.” 

    “Incorrect,” Fuku pointed the end of a spoon in your direction and waved it in little circles as she spoke, “ _ Sans _ doesn’t sing around humans. Monsters singing is a lot like… like cats purring. Especially when we’re not performing. It means we’re really happy with something, and hearing another monster sing makes the rest of us happy. Like a musical, we can’t help but join in. Fill in the parts.” 

     Papyrus nodded, “SANS HAS NOT SUNG IN…. A VERY LONG TIME, HUMAN.” 

     Fuku;s fire was flickering mischievously, and maybe a little smugly. Dahria was quietly listening and picking at a scone, which meant that she was biding her time in the conversation, waiting for the moment to strike. Papyrus was giving you a Significant Look. 

     “What?” You were eloquent as ever and very confused. What did Sans singing have to do with you? The look on Papyrus’s face was transferred to Fuku, who giggled, but neither of them cared to elaborate further. You huffed a sigh, sinking lower in your chair and waiting for somebody to fill you in. 

     Dahria came to your rescue, “Fuku said you were bailing on us this Friday! How could you?”

     “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Jolly Green over there,” You flashed a thankful grin, “Sans invited me to see his band play. I’d rather support a friend than go over awkward introductions again.” 

     The brunette nodded, her bobbed hair waving with the motion, “Right, right, I suppose that’s fair. But really? Are you sure you’re not interested in getting back in the dating scene?” 

     “The last guy tried to blow up the embassy.” You deadpanned, “I’ll find my own love interest, thanks.” 

     Dahria lifted her hands in surrender, but the wry grin on her lips told you she wasn’t done quite yet, “That’s not a no. Is there someone you’re interested in?”

     Fuku’s coal eyes were fixed on you, twinkling. Papyrus was in much the same state, but he looked like he was trying to keep from bursting at the seams with excitement. Dahria looked like the cat that got the cream - and that’s when it hit you.

     “You guys think I’m interested in Sans?” You tacked on a half-laugh at the end, for good measure, “I’ve known the guy for a few weeks, we’ve hung out once outside of work, I don’t think dating is going to happen.”

     “BECAUSE HE’S A SKELETON?” Papyrus looked the picture of innocence as he took another large gulp of his milk. 

     It was your turn to glare at him, “No. It’s because I barely know him! I don’t care if he’s a skeleton, or a monster, or some rabbit thing -” Lulu flashed across your mind, and you ignored the flash of something green in your gut, “- He’s Sans. He’s cool and funny, and an overall decent guy, but I don’t really think he’s interested.” 

     “But you are?” Dahria leaned forward, grinning. 

     “I never said that,” You brandished a spoon at her, backpedaling. 

      She tittered in her seat, “You didn’t  _ not  _ say that.”

     You abruptly stood up, grumbling something about getting a refill on the hot chocolate as you left the table. That was not a conversation you were having. Sans was a friend, nothing more, nothing less. The green feeling in your stomach wasn’t because of one little interaction after what was definitely NOT a lunch date, it was because your friends were cornering you into emotions that didn’t exist. Why did they think you liked him so much? He was clever, with an amazing sense of humor that never failed to make you grin, he was a fantastic listener, a great bassist, and the grin on his lips when you told a particularly good pun didn’t make your heart stutter… did it? 

     Muffett knew what you were headed up for, and didn’t hesitate to start making you a second cup - a large one instead of your usual small, the thoughts on your face must have shown. Your brows furrowed as you chewed on the end of one thumb, thinking. 

     It wasn’t until Muffett sat the mug down before you with a clang on the counter and a sweet smile that you were able to pull yourself out of your own head. You swallowed, forcing a smile and hanging over the cash. As you walked back to the table, your stomach dropped. 

     Yeah, you definitely had the beginnings of a crush on Sans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Questions? Concerns? Things I got blatantly wrong? Let me know!!!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the evening of Sans's show!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life explanation for being hella late at the end. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

     The Friday of the show came along way faster than you were prepared for. The music shop was busier than ever, it seemed you barely had a moment to breathe, let alone get stuck in your own thoughts about what you and your friends had discussed at Muffett’s. Upon further reflection that evening you had determined that you did, in fact, kinda-sorta want to date Sans. Or at the very least, try to get to know him better. 

     “Thanks! Have a nice day!” You called to the last customer, a little girl who bought her first violin (SO TINY). She waved back at you, hopping while her mother held the instrument case. The bell jangled as the door closed. You counted to ten, slowly, hands gripping the edge of the counter. 

     Ten seconds, no new customers, time to close the shop. 

     You grinned, darting to the door and deadbolting it with a sigh. Finally, no more people! Customer service was draining. Whispurr mewed at you, winding around your ankles with a purr. She knew the sound of that lock meant it was time to go home, and since it was Friday you couldn’t leave her at the shop. 

     You squatted down, letting her rub the side of her face against your hand, “Are you as ready to head out of here as I am?”

     “Mrrew~”

     “Ain’t that the truth.” You exhaled, scooping her into your arms, “C’mon, into your carrier, then we can head upstairs.”

     Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but the cat demanded your full attention. Was there an animal on this Earth that liked being cooped up in a carrier for any amount of time? Doubtful. You were never as thankful for your apartment’s proximity to the store as you were in this moment. A whole block down the street, up two flights of stairs, and down a hallway. No need for a car, saved lots of money on food with home being so close, and it ensured you kept in fairly decent shape - at least, enough in shape for you to feel good about it. Whispurr meowed the entire five-minute walk home, earning sympathetic coos from passersby while you just rolled your eyes and hushed her. 

     Honestly, cats were so dramatic sometimes. 

     You unlocked the door to your apartment, setting the cat carrier down for a moment while you fought with the lock. The key always stuck in the lock. 

     “I know, I know, freedom calls,” You muttered as the key finally pulls free and you kicked the door shut behind you. Whispurr was practically screaming now, begging for release from her tiny prison. Once she was free, she looked at you and squinted. One last indignant meow and she was off, vanished into the depth of your little home. 

     You sighed, running a hand through your hair while you looked around your apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was home. There was one big window opposite the door, which is what you centered the studio space that served as your living room/dining room, with the corner directly to your right serving as a kitchen space. Over by the window was a music stand with some sheet music on it, and a viola case nearby. There was a door off to your left that lead to your bedroom, which housed your bed (duh) that was neatly made and had far too many pillows, a desk where you kept your laptop and various other Important Things (a full set of dice, pay stubs and other tax forms, music player, etc.etc.). There was a door to the bathroom on that side as well. A few plants scattered about, too many sweatshirts stacked on the arm of your couch, and books scattered on the coffee table. 

     Yep. Definitely home. 

     You let out a groan as you flopped onto the couch, arms splayed and body feeling a little like Jello. There was nothing that beat the feeling of getting home and just splaying on the couch - 

     Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz. 

     Oh. Right. The message on your phone. 

**[ bone boi: ]** so show 2nite, c u there?

     That was tonight?! You made a startled sound, rolling off the couch in an extremely graceful manner and stumbling to the refrigerator. Yup, that was today. Shit. You hadn’t done laundry in a while, you desperately needed a shower, and worst of all you had no idea what you were supposed to wear. 

**[ you: ]** Absolutely! Wouldn’t miss it :) What time should I be there? 

     Nothing like buying some time with a falsely calm text. Even if the person you’re texting surprises you by texting back just as quickly. 

**[ sans: ]** 8ish?

**[ sans: ]** i can give u a password for the bouncer, let u in for free

**[ you: ]** Free is good. 

**[ sans: ]** tell him ur the legendary fart master

**[ you: ]** ….

**[ you: ]** You’re kidding

**[ sans: ]** nah

**[ you: ]** Are you serious? 

**[ sans: ]** no im snas

**[ sans: ]** *sans

**[ you: ]** har har. I’ll see you tonight!

     Leave it to Sans to cheer you up. You couldn’t help but smile just a little at the exchange, exhaling and feeling the butterflies in your stomach start to dissipate. There was no reason to be nervous anyway, it was just a friend’s show at another friend’s father’s bar, what could possibly go wrong? 

     Lots of things, your brain supplied, like Lulu stepping in, or you ripping your clothing, or Sans thinking your dancing looked stupid - oh man you weren’t going to be able to dance what if - 

     Whispurr headbutted your leg, winding herself around your legs as she purred. Cats were smarter than anyone thought, and yours knew you very well. You squatted to give her some love, then straightened with a determined expression on your face. It was time to get ready for the evening. 

     Good thing you had taken care of all your personal grooming this morning - anything you wanted to shave was already done, so all you had to do was scrub up and wash your hair. It made for a pretty speedy shower. A quick inventory of your closet discovered a brand new pair of jeans you had worn once before and a loose shirt in your favorite color. Pair that with a tank top and some high-top sneakers and you were golden. You stood in front of the mirror, chewing on your lip as you decided what to do with your hair and face. Maybe you’d leave your hair down for once, wild and free so that if you decided to dance there was some dynamic movement. Or something. You didn’t really want to go through the effort of a full face of makeup, you knew that much, so you opted for some mascara, concealer, and lipstick. 

     You turned in the mirror, looking at yourself from as many angles as you could. The lipstick - though a fairly natural shade - had been exactly what the outfit needed. Perfect. You grinned at yourself, feeling way more confident now that the hard part was over. Now you just needed to get to the venue. 

★★★★★

     Grillby’s was only a few blocks away - just like everything else in Ebott Town. It was a beautiful evening, not quite chilly enough for a jacket, but clear skies and a warm breeze. Grillby’s itself looked pretty similar to the one Underground - at least, that’s what you were told. The sign on the bar took up the entire width of the storefront, outlined in a faint orange glow that flickered like the fire you knew it’s owner was made of. Everything else had a homey sort of feel to it, well-loved brick and big windows were also featured on the front, though the windows were fogged up from the warmth on the inside. You could hear some sort of trance/vocal music coming from inside, a bass thumping at a steady rhythm. Huh. Grillby’s certainly didn’t look like that kind of club… Though it did seem to grow into a much bigger building in the back. 

     Inside was just as welcoming, an old school bar occupied the far wall, with some booths off to our right and a few tables scattered about. Fuku was actually manning the bar, dressed in her black pants and a tuxedo top that had been butchered into a tank top. There was also an ominous curtain in the back left corner, next to a door that was clearly labeled KITCHEN. 

     “Hey Fuku,” You said with a grin, “I didn’t know you were working tonight.” 

     Fuku looked up from the glass she was cleaning and gave a low whistle, looking you up and down, “Wow, you look great. Definitely still don’t have a crush on You-Know-Who?” When you rolled your eyes in response, Fuku just chuckled, “Seriously though, you look great ____. Gonna turn some heads tonight, not just the one you’re after.” 

    “Speaking of, where’s the stage? I thought this was a music venue.” You leaned on the bar, one brow raised. 

     If Fuku could grin, the one on her face in that moment would be equal parts proud and shit-eating, “Oh, we are. Dad’s working the club bar, he didn’t want to miss the show, so I get the front bar.” She put away the glass, scurrying out from behind the bar and motioning for you to follow her. With a flourish, she pulled back the black curtain, revealing a long hallway with windows into the kitchen on the right and some tasteful flame lighting on the left. At the end was a half-seahorse-half-horse-horse monster, who looked way too buff to be real. 

     The expression you had must have been ripe with disbelief because Fuku had to give you a little shove to get going. 

     “Go on, I’ll pop in once they’ve started. Mom’s supposed to come in to finish the night upfront.” She said, giving you a thumbs up before pulling the curtain shut behind you. 

     Alright, this whole thing was a little sketchier than you were expecting. 

     You straightened your shoulders, patted your pockets to make sure you still had your phone, wallet, and keys as you started walking forward. The music was louder here, with a few cooks dancing around each other in the kitchen - was that Dogamy and Dogaressa? Nice. The monster at the end of the hall noticed you and smirked (With a horse's mouth?) and nodded at you, tossing his mane and flexing in the process. 

     “Welcome to Grillby’s, my name is A-a-ron,” Each syllable got a new pose, “You here to see the shoooooow?” He said, swapping to a new flexing position as he drew out the last word. 

     You nodded, eyeing his arms carefully. That was a lot of muscles for a horse, “Uh, yeah. I’m supposed to tell you I am the Legendary Fart Master?”

     Aaron blinked at you and shook out his mane again, managing to smile like he belonged on a toothpaste commercial, “Congrats, dude, but uh -” He finger-gunned at you, high over his head so he could flex another group of muscles, “I don’t know what that means.”

     “I was just told to tell you that,” You shrugged, then decided to return the finger guns at half the enthusiasm Aaron did in order to punctuate the last two words of your next sentence, “Something about free admission?”

     Aaron looked even more confused, so you sighed and pulled out the message Sans had sent you. You held your phone out to him, the message in question highlighted. The Horse Dude looked at you, then the message, then you again before his eyes flickered over your shoulder for a moment and then, again, back to you. 

     “I never learned to read your human language,” He drawled, lifting bulky arms to rest behind his head, “You’ll have to read it to me.” 

     “I am the Legendary Fart Master.” 

     “Sorry, say that again? A little louder, all this music makes you deaf.” 

     Great. A jokester. “I am. The Legendary. Fart,” Finger gun, “Master.” Finger gun. Pew pew. 

     Aaron just grinned at you, flexing his pecs a bit (were you vaguely uncomfortable? This was a lot of flexing.) You stared at him, feeling your eyebrows climb into your hairline. Well, if you can’t beat ‘em. 

     “Maybe that was still too quiet. I can be louder,” You straightened and inhaled, “I AM THE LEGENDARY FART MASTER!” You shouted, arms spread wide and face lifted to the stars. Did you look stupid? Absolutely. But it was a moment that brought laughter bubbling up out of your lips, despite your best efforts to keep it contained. 

     “holy shit.”

     You felt yourself freeze, then sighed as wheezy laughter filled the hallway behind you. Of course. Of freaking course, Sans would be there to see that display. The whole thing was a joke you definitely should have expected, in hindsight. You looked over your shoulder, entirely unamused by the whole thing. Sans was doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach and  _ cackling _ . The usual blue hoodie was in place, but the basketball shorts he usually wore were replaced with black jeans and some converse. He actually looked like he cared about how he looked for once. Interesting. 

     You preferred the slippers. They were more.. Sans. 

     “Are you enjoying yourself?” You questioned, voice flat and resigned to your fate. 

     Sans cackled for a moment more, eventually rising with a sigh and wiping a shining blue tear from one corner of his eye-socket, “oh man, that was the best possible timing, thank you aaron, seriously dude.” You blinked and he was next to the bouncer, fist bumping him. 

     “No worries man, it’s’all good.” Aaron flexed, “I take it this Fart Master’s with you then?”

     You shook your head with a sigh as Sans let out a bark of a laugh, “yeah, they’re with me. i’ll take them off of your hands.”

     “Why even give me a ‘password’ if it doesn’t work?” You muttered, hands on your hips as he finally turned his gaze to you. His eye lights seemed to stutter - grow wider for a fraction of a second and then shrink to their normal size. They flicker up and down for a moment as you stare him down, mock anger displayed on your face and in your body. “Well?”

     “Uh… to make you say something stupid?”  He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world - and for a moment you believe him. That is, you believe him until he starts snickering again and you remember who you’re dealing with here. 

     “Gee. Thanks.” You say with a roll of your eyes, “Does that mean you were kidding about the no-cover thing too? Cause I gotta say, that’s cruel.”

     Sans shook his head, instead motioning you over with one skeletal hand. “nah, that’s legit. you’re with me so there’s no cover.” He nods to Aaron, who in turn floats aside to let you through. 

     “Neat, hey thanks,” You say with a pat on Sans’s head.  The glare he gives you in return sparks a giggle from you. With a flourish, he parts the curtain before you and lets you enter first. 

     Your first impression of the place had been correct. There was a lot more space back here, the outskirts dotted with tall tables and stools that were half filled with people - mostly monsters. On the far right was a glass bar, manned by a bright orange fire elemental in a suit and bowtie.  _ That must be Grillby, _ you thought as he prepared what looked to be a Flaming Dr. Pepper. Quite flashy, good skill. In the back there was a stage, flashing lights at the top in various colors, a few that looped around the dancefloor and stage alike. Monsters bopped all over the space right before the stage, dancing to the sort of EDM mixture that a ghost and a fish-woman were creating onstage. 

     “that’s napstabook and shyren,” Sans tugged you down so he could talk into your ear over the noise, “opening act. they’ve got a few more songs. you’ll like them.”

     You nodded and hummed, eyes scanning for an empty table. Or maybe the bar would be a better first stop? Hmm...

     Sans waved at someone before catching your attention again, “tell grillbz to put anything you get on my tab,” he winked, “toriel’s saving you a seat upfront.” 

     You looked up, meeting the gaze of a goat monster. She looked good, in a motherly way. Dressed in a just-right-snug violet dress and a golden necklace, she was easy to spot. Especially when she stood to wave you over to her table. Wow, she was tall. You waved back, pointing at the bar and indicating that you really needed a drink. She nodded and you felt yourself relax. 

     “So, what should I order-” You looked down, expecting a stout skeleton at your side. Only empty space greeted you. A sigh and a shake of your head, of course. He probably needed to get backstage to his band. You squared your shoulders, facing the bar. 

     It was going to be an interesting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! Somehow! 
> 
> Long story short, my car got t-boned with me in it. Ended up with some fractured ribs and a broken leg. It's been hard to find some cheer to write lately, but I managed to get some stuff done. Cast came off my leg, in PT for that now, still bracing my ribs. Super fun. 
> 
> Hopefully another chapter this weekend. Stay Tuned!
> 
> Let me know how I did in the comments?


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks, Grillby, Toriel, some introductions. A robot. A hint at a massive brOTP of mine, and then the beginning of the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

     Monster alcohol is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. What the hell was a Spear of Justice? Golden Flower? And it seemed none of the drinks were served in glasses you would see outside of a novelty shop anyway. The bottles of liquor lining the back wall of the bar all seemed to glow a different color - was that one actually  _ sparkling? _

     The flame elemental behind the bar was watching you, his face unnervingly blank as he polished glass in his hands. Thank goodness he wore glasses, you weren’t sure you’d know where to look if he didn’t. 

     Your face warmed, gesturing broadly at the sight before you, “I don’t even know where to start.” 

_ A lot of humans start that way.  _ A voice cut through the buzz of noise in the bar, clear as day and warm like a campfire. You jumped a little, eyes widening and then narrowing on the elemental, who’s next sentence was crackling with amusement.  _ I would be happy to help you decide, miss.  _

__ “You’re talking with magic.” Ah, yes. Such tact. Much grace. Wow. 

_ You are listening with magic. _

     Oh. Well. You hadn’t thought of that. Your mouth opened, then closed, “Yeah, fair enough. What would you recommend?” You leaned forward on the bar, watching with eager eyes as he moved to take in the selection of liquor before him, “I’m not a huge drinker - definitely don’t want to get drunk tonight.” 

_ Monster alcohol will not get you drunk unless you intend to _ , He glanced back at you over one shoulder,  _ Intent matters. I’m sure Fuku has told you as much. _

     “You are Grillby!” You exclaimed with a grin, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I hope Fuku hasn’t passed along any terribly embarrassing stories.” 

_ Dear, Fuku tells me everything.  _

     “Everything everything?”

_ Everything everything.  _ He didn’t even have a face, but you could feel the amused grin in his tone,  _ And I know what will loosen you up just enough to forget most of your nerves tonight.  _

__ The flames on top of Grillby’s head flickered as he reached for a bottle of cyan liquid on one of the higher shelves. It glowed, just a little bit, and you could watch a slightly darker shade of blue swirl around in there too. It was actually really pretty. He then pulled down one of the more normal glasses - a wine glass, but the cup was shaped like a six-petaled flower. 

     You craned your neck to get a better look as he filled the glass, “What’s that?” 

_ Echo Wine _ , he said reaching under the counter and pulling a glass jar and a pair of teeny tongs out.  _ Everything will go a little blue after your first sip, but it will fade. That is just the alcohol reading your intent. It will help bring out the lower tones in conversation, make the words and notes a little clearer.  _ Carefully, he reached in the jar and pulled out three small, white flowers and dropped them on top of the wine in your glass. The tongs must be so he wouldn’t burn them? 

_ Here. Start with this. If you are feeling more adventurous later, do not hesitate to come to me for guidance. _ Grillby offered with a friendly crackle of his fire. _ I will be here.  _

     You offered him a relieved smile in return, carefully taking the glass from his hands, “Thank you. Seriously.” 

_ It is no trouble, my dear. Do enjoy the music.  _

__ ….. How did he manage to convey a wink with just his voice? 

     Your cheeks did not heat up as you turned away from the bar, looking for the tall goat woman once again. Thankfully, there did not seem to be to many other goat-monsters around. You carefully navigated to the table, transfixed by the shimmering liquid in your glass. It was a surprisingly long distance, and you navigated it beautifully, not spilling a single drop of liquid on your way. 

     When you finally did look up, Toriel was looking at you with an amused expression, sipping at her own glass of something vibrantly pink. 

     “You must be Toriel,” You say with a grin. Hopefully, playing the cheerful innocent would get you out of anything awkward, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

     “You as well, my child,” She said with a nod and a gesture to the seat across from her, “Please, sit with me. Sans would never forgive me if I hadn’t saved you a seat. He is quite excited to have you here tonight.” 

     You shuffled into your seat, taking the utmost care not to disturb the flowers resting on the surface, “I’m excited to be here. Though I’ve gotta say, it’s hard to picture Sans doing anything that would require as much practice as a band.” You looked back up at her, “Guess it’s kind of a see-it-to-believe-it situation.”

     Toriel’s laugh was like tinkling bells, it was precious. “I don’t blame you at all for that. In fact, I have it on good authority that he also plays, of all things, a brass instrument.” 

     You froze halfway through taking a photo of your drink, brows furrowed in confusion, “Without lips? How does he manage that?” 

      You knew the answer before it left her lips, “Magic.” 

     “Of course,” Toriel laughed again at the roll of your eyes, “Let me guess, it’s trombone?”

     The laughter that followed was all you needed to confirm your suspicions. Of course. Of  _ course, _ he played the trombone. It was an instrument that begged for a skeleton to play it. You shook your head, laughing at his predictability. 

     “I wish I was surprised,” you mused, finally taking a sip of the drink in your hands. 

     The EDM Music that Napstablook and Shyren were creating faded out, the lights dimming until each were lit in their own spotlight. Napstablook was staring at Shyren, who was staring back at them. A silent moment, serene. 

     The lights faded to black, and thunderous applause broke out. You joined in, clapping for the duo as you heard faint sounds of the stage being set up for the next band. You hummed, glancing around, watching the blue drink swirl around in its glass. 

     “So, my child, I am afraid Sans has not told me much about you,” Toriel spoke, pulling your attention away from trying to see what the crew was setting up, “What do you do?”

     You shrugged, “Work in my family’s music shop. It’s not the glamorous life a younger me would have dreamed of, but it’s way more entertaining.” 

     “I see. Is that how you met Sans?” 

     “And Papyrus,” You add with a pointed look, “And Frisk. I think Paps dragged Sans in on that first day, he was really concerned about his brother’s bass.”

     “And you were the one to repair it?” 

     “Eh, I handle the financials, mostly. Once in awhile, I’ll help with staining, but for repairs that extensive my dad steps in. He’s a luthier - make the instruments. Pretty good at it too,” You hum. One of the flowers got a bit of wine on the petals, you were watching it slowly sink to the bottom of your glass, “Do you play any instruments?” 

     Toriel nodded, “Piano. I discovered flute when we reached the Surface, it has been nice to learn something new again.” 

     Your heart melted - of course, there had been instruments that hadn’t made it Underground. The idea of monsters finding something new as they rediscovered sunshine was one that warmed you from the inside out. “That’s awesome, Toriel.”

     She smiled, soft and matronly, “Indeed.” 

     “So what else do you do? Besides piano and flute?” 

     “Well, I am also Frisk’s mother,” Toriel paused, looking for what your reaction would be. When you gave none, she continued, “I also do, em,  _ Government _ work. There is not much more I can say about it, I’m afraid.”

     “Totally understand. Keep your secrets, I have no interest in them,” You laughed, leaning back in your seat. 

     The Goat Momster-- MONster grinned, “I am also… Ah, what did Undyne call me? The ‘Band Mom?’” She shrugged, “Our house is the only one with a big enough basement, all of their instruments reside there, when they are not practicing, of course. and someone needs to remind them to take a break and eat!” 

     She opened her mouth to say more, but the lights onstage started flashing. They strobed between pink and white as a voice filled the space. 

     “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET'S GIVE ANOTHER ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR MY COUSIN, NAPSTABLOOK, AND HIS BEST FRIEND SHYREN! AREN’T THEY WONDERFUL?”

     Polite applause followed, that slowly grew more and more rambunctious as a figure descended to the middle of the stage. Their silhouette looked like something out of an 80s film - large, pointed shoulder pads, what looked like a more modern, infinitely more stylish mullet, and thigh-high stiletto boots. Damn. 

     “I always knew you had it in you, Blooky darling. This is something I don’t often say, but I really don’t think there’s another act that can top yours truly.” 

     The lights all solidify into independent beams, dotting the stage and dance floor. All at once, the white beams of light move, focusing on the speaker with such intensity that your breath is stolen away. Their body shines, not because of their clothes, but because they’re literally made of metal. A robot. A robot that’s able to pull off pink, black and silver while looking like they invented it. Holy shit. Is that-- 

     The figure looks over their left shoulder, cocking their hips the opposite way and bringing a microphone to their lips, “After all, what’s the point in pursuing a solo music career when everyone already knows my name?” The smirk on their face brightens into a full-blown grin, teeth dazzling as they raise their free hand above their head, wrist limp, “And what, exactly, is my name, darlings?” 

     It totally was. 

     “Mettaton!” The crowd shouts back. The robot is not impressed though. Those silver lips form into the most perfect pout you’ve ever seen as they  _ tut tut tut _ into the microphone. 

      “Now, now, darlings. I know we can do better than that. What’s my name?” 

     “Mettaton!!” 

     “What-” They bent at the waist, “-is-” and straightened with a kick of their right leg, spinning them around to face the majority of the bar, “-my-” there was the signature hair flip, “-name?”

     “METTATON!” The crowd went absolutely beserk, you joining in with your hands cupped around your mouth. The applause must have reigned for a full five minutes, Mettaton keeping it going with one stylish pose after another. No wonder they were the most famous monster actor in the world. Maybe even the most famous actor in the world, at this point. They were definitely someone you never thought you would get to see live, let alone ever. 

     Mettaton brought the microphone up to their lips again, “Thank you, darlings! I knew you had it in you.” They winked and had to motion for the crowd to quiet down again, “Now listen. It is possible that I - the GREAT METTATON - misspoke earlier.”

     The crowd gasped!

     “I know! Perish the thought that I could ever be wrong!” Mettaton placed a hand over the heart on their chest, bending low at the knees in psuedo-agony. They did straighten rather abruptly, pointing out at the crowd and slowly sweeping across it, ending on you, “But it is only because I don’t think there are words for how wonderful I think this next group is. They are on their own level, a level that even I dare not touch because I know I cannot do better than they can!” 

     “Two skeletons, one fish woman-” 

     “----TOLD HIM TO CALL ME GUARD CAPTAIN---”

     “UNDYNE, HUSH!”

     Mettaton cleared their throat and the voices backstage fell slightly quieter. The crowd was abuzz, murmuring among themselves and obviously excited. Toriel chose this moment to lean forward and give you some vital information. 

     “Did Sans happen to mention how popular their band was Underground?” She questioned. 

     You shook your head in a no, reluctant to take your eyes off the stage for even a moment. 

     “Ah. Well,” Toriel sipped at her drink, “They were extremely popular. They hadn’t played in almost thirty years when we breached the surface again. Grillby was once their guitarist but had to stop when he had his child. They did not play again until a special child fell down.” 

     You looked back at her, eyebrow raised, but the question on your lips went unasked. 

     “AHEM.” Mettaton said, silencing everyone, “As I was saying! Two skeletons, one Guard Captain, and a flame elemental made up the most popular band Underground for years! Decades, even! They dominated the Underground entertainment scene - until yours truly came along - and never failed to deliver. We were all heartbroken when they decided to hang up their strings, one member needing to raise a family, another devoted to her career.” Mettaton fell to their knees, hands braced by their chest and eyes pleading up to some power above, “We begged them to play for us again! And yet, they did not.”

     The crowd buzzed louder, monsters leaving seats in the back of the house for the dance floor, needing a closer look. 

     “And then, one fateful day in the year 20XX, a human fell down.” Mettaton stood, arms wide, “And the rest, as they say, is history. Tonight, for your viewing pleasure, for the first time in literal decades!” Mettaton grimaced, “Though, their name has not improved much,” The dazzling smile was back, “Give it up, for  **Fire Fish Bones** !”

     The cheer from the crowd was deafening - you and Toriel actually had to cover your ears from the sound produced. A few other humans in the bar were in the same boat as you, overwhelmed and on the verge of losing their hearing. Your phone buzzes, and you’re able to spare it a glance in the brief chaos as Mettaton ascends back to the ceiling and the crowd refuses to lose their excitement. 

**[boneboi]** hope u enjoy da show ;)

     There is a single note that rings out - a key plucked on a keyboard, then a chord. Several chords in succession with a ringing guitar chiming in as well. It’s not fast, not yet. When the keys pick up in tempo a light comes up on a blue scaled woman with red hair and an eyepatch. She’s wearing leather with her shark teeth bared in a fierce grin. The piano finishes one iteration of what you gather is the main theme, then the guitar enters with ernest. A light pops up next to the keys, highlighting Frisk in a blue and violet striped shirt and a black electric guitar. the next iteration brings in drums, and Papyrus is lit up on a truly impressive drum kit with spaghetti hand-painted on the big drum in the middle. He looks like he is having the time of his life - and waves with one hand when he spots you. 

     The three of them carry on for a few minutes, building a song that is, at its essence, freaking badass. It makes you feel strong, makes you feel like you could do anything, makes you feel like… like...

     Like suplexing a boulder? 

     The crowd falls right into line, jamming out on the dance floor. There’s still an instrument missing though… The music - though it is absolutely amazing - feels hollow. Too light. there’s no body, no bass. 

     Then the song ends, and there is silence. The crowd is waiting, they know what happens next and you’re caught up in their spell, waiting with bated breath until whatever comes next. 

     Which is, honestly, not what you expected. 

     The lights go out again, leaving the house in pitch black. The audience is still silent, and everyone holds their breath as - one by one - each band member’s magic lights up the stage. The keyboard - Undyne? - is lit by the steady blue light of a spear. A read heart floats in front of Frisk’s chest, and Papyrus holds a pair of vibrant orange bones in his hands. A single flaming circle burns over by where everyone now knows the final member of the band is, cyan all alone in an unnerving sea of darkness. Sans’s voice rings out, clear as day in the minds of everyone in the venue. Weird magic speaking to everyone at that moment. 

**Y O U ‘ R E   G O N N A    H A V E   A    B A S S    T I M E**

     He starts plucking a rhythm over and over again on his strings, establishing a beat that everyone can follow. Then guitar. Then the keys. And once everyone is playing along their magic blinks out altogether - except for what you guess is Sans’s eye, alone and lighting up the stage as this new theme is played by just him one last time. Then everyone’s in, playing the song and giving their everything to the music as the lights come up, bright and steady on the band and pulsing every shade imaginable on the dance floor 

     You finally take a sip of that Echo Wine. 

     Grillby hadn’t been kidding, everything went blue for a second and your vision tunneled. Sure, you were aware of the dancers, aware of Toriel carefully watching you from the corner of her eye, but in that moment you cared about one thing. 

     Sans stood onstage, signature hoodie nowhere to be seen. Instead, dark jeans and the converse you saw earlier were paired with a black undershirt and a dark blue button-up, which was completely undone. His bass, the one you had helped restore and stain, shined under the stage lights, each note ringing strong and proud and true. That left eye of his was still glowing cyan, and the grin on his face was wider than you had ever seen it. He was in his element. And the vague blue-y-ness of your vision was putting  _ everything _ in his favor. 

     You must have stared for too long. His eyes flickered over to you for a moment, then back to the crowd. Toriel reached across the table and gently pushed your mouth shut. 

     Holy  _ fuck _ Sans was hot. 

     As if he heard your train of thought, a faint blue color crept onto his cheekbones. Were you still staring? Yup. Still staring. You should really stop that. But the way his fingers danced over the neck and the strings, how he made it all look so effortless… Just, holy shit. Those were the only words your brain was supplying. 

     You took another sip of wine - at least, you thought it was a sip. In reality, you drained your glass and Toriel chuckled. The blue-vision faded, and he was still just as enticing as before. Wow. 

     He looked over at you, holding eye contact as he slapped out a particularly complicated bass riff. Then he stuck out a tongue (He had a tongue? That opened a whole world of possibilities that you didn’t have the brain capacity to go into now) that was blue and glowy and apparently extremely… well, it curled at the end and was long and thick and WOW your brain was definitely short-circuiting. 

     And then, because Sans the Skeleton is a bastard with a cocky streak a mile wide, has the nerve to wink at you.

     Fuck. Fuku was going to have a field day. 

     You definitely had a crush on Sans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of new characters in this chapter, three newbies is about my limit. But I had SO MUCH FUN writing Mettaton!! Is my stage technician showing yet? Heh. Thanks for all the well wishes! Definitely feeling better, this is helping. I got a lot of writing done while I was laid up, the only problem is it's all in pencil - and apparently my handwriting is not as neat as I once thought it was. And they always look so much longer typed on GDocs than when I paste them here! (:
> 
> PLEASE SUGGEST BETTER BAND NAMES FOR SNAS/PAPS/UNDYNE/FRISK. The one I have is painfully... Well... yeah... 
> 
> Songs I listened to while trying to write their music!   
>  Spear of Justice ---> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwtehku2UQw  
>  Megalovania (the beginning, anyway) ---> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imjmq21ZR40  
>  Megalovania (after just their magic lights the stage) ---> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dy6YawDDGRM
> 
> Feed me comments! You'll get another chapter on Friday, and then back to bi-weekly. I just didn't want to wait to post this one any longer.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans at the show! A new friend, a new rival (?) and a bit of magic

     It is often assumed that one knows their favorite color by the time they’re a grown, established, semi-functioning adult. Realizing that it has changed is usually a big event. 

     Whatever your favorite color  _ had  _ been, cyan blue has stormed in and thoroughly replaced it. You would be seeing that image in your dreams for the longest time, probably your daydreams as well. And, y’know, maybe a few fantasies. 

     Heh. 

     Toriel’s bell of laughter is what finally tears your gaze away from Sans’s eye lights and has your face, ears, and neck warming rather rapidly. The look in her eyes is far from judging though, it leans closer to warmth and amusement. Especially amusement as the blush on your cheeks deepens. On reflex, you go to take another sip of your drink and find that it’s empty. You blink in surprise, followed by a chuckle.  

     “I think I was a little thirstier than I thought…” You murmured with an embarrassed smile, “Maybe I should get another glass.” 

     Toriel waved a large hand - more of a paw, really - motioning for you to sit down, “Please, I find my own glass empty as well. Let me get you an old favorite of mine. Stay, sit and enjoy the, em,  _ music _ .”

     The little grin on her lips is far too knowing for your tastes, but you concede with a shrug. No sense in fighting it. “Alright. If… If you’re sure.” 

     “Absolutely, my child.” Toriel stands, moving for Grillby’s warm, welcoming flame. The entire crowd just seems to part around her, flowing around her like water without her ever getting wet. She made it look so easy and you were grateful she had offered to go in your place - getting through that crowd would have taken you ages. 

     Besides, it gives you more time to focus on the music. Just the music. 

     Frisk draws your attention first, the barest hint of a pink tongue poking between their teeth as they traded solos back and forth with Papyrus’s drums. The two of them are having a teasing conversation with their instruments, the definitive rock style swapped for something more like Frank Zappa, or maybe Steve Vai’s solo stuff. It’s a lot of fun to listen to, bringing giggles to the lips of every person in the house. The woman at the keyboard - fish monster at the keyboard, that is - chimes in once and a while as well, with Sans just keeping a steady rhythm in the background. You could see why they were so popular Underground. Any musical group with the power to bring that many smiles out deserved the limelight. 

     You try to focus on other members, you really do, but the way Sans is smiling keeps pulling you in. He’s looking at his brother with so much affection in his eye sockets it almost melts your own heart. He looks… Happy. Properly happy, without the darkness behind his eyes weighing him down. 

     It’s a good look for him. 

     It’s a really good look for him. 

     “Here you go, child,” Toriel returned with two drinks in her paws. One was a repeat of the vibrant pink mixture she had been drinking before, the other was served in a tall glass and started golden and faded to red at the bottom, “I used to drink these in my younger days. It is Liquid Courage. Literally.” 

     “You guys actually found a way to bottle an emotion?” Tentatively, you reached to take the glass from her, it was warm to the touch and smelled like victory, “What’s it do?”

     Toriel hummed, “It gives you confidence. Just enough to feel better about being out in a strange monster bar,” She sips at her drink, glancing at you through the corner of her eye, “Perhaps enough you’ll be able to tear your eyes away from the show for a moment.” 

     “That obvious, huh?” You said with that same shy grin. She was good at reading you, or you were being painfully obvious. It was one of the two. 

     “Only to me,” Toriel sighs, looking up at the stage with a wistful look in her eyes, “I remember what it was like to be in your shoes, once upon a time.” 

     You hum in acknowledgment while you swirled the drink in your hands. As much as you wanted to ask for a bit of advice, that felt like a story for another day. One where there were no prying ears around to hear something that might get a bit personal. 

     “You’re right. A little confidence never hurt, right?” You grinned and took a few sips of the Literally Liquid Courage. The moment it touched your tongue everything seemed to mellow out - it felt like you were one of the crowd, just another person. Anonymity. Interesting. Your brows furrowed in thought as you tried to logic that one out… if it made you feel like everyone else, then…

     “...then it doesn’t feel like anyone’s watching you!” You muttered, feeling the grin solidify on your lips, “That’s neat.” 

     “Indeed.” 

     You looked up at Toriel, leaning forward onto the table as the Fish Lady took lead on a new song with her keyboard that had you tapping your toes in time, “So, how do you know these guys? I met everyone through Papyrus, technically. Except for the woman playing the keyboard.” 

     Toriel nodded onstage, “That would be Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard. She is… a strong personality. Her and Papyrus are best friends, as well as her and Frisk. The three of them together…” She shook her head, fondness written all over her features, “It took me four hours to get the kitchen clean after they all decided to cook dinner together. That will never happen again.” 

     You snorted, taking another sip of your drink, “Undyne. I’ll remember that. She’s really good.” 

     “They all are.” 

    “Okay, that’s the third time you’ve used that tone,” Whoops, looks like confidence made it hard to hold your tongue, “That soft, affectionate, ah-yes-these-are-my-children one. What gives?” 

     There was that bell-like laughter from Toriel again, eyes closed and a paw pressed to her own lips to hide her smile, “Because they all feel like it. I am, of course, Frisk’s mother, but the others are over so often it feels like they are my own children as well.” 

     “You’re Frisk’s mom?” 

     “I know there is not much family resemblance,” Toriel eyes you warily, “But I assure you, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for that child.” 

     You raised your hands in surrender, leaning back in your seat, “I wouldn’t ask you to do anything, except maybe tell me where they got that guitar.” You nodded at the stage, focusing on the black and white instrument in their hands, “It looks… weird, in their hands. Like it’s not an instrument they like?”

    Toriel sighed, “There was… an incident, when we returned to the surface. Frisk’s guitar that they found and used underground was all but destroyed. They still have the pieces, but… it has not seen sunlight in a long time.” 

     “Hmm. Send me some photos, I might be able to get it back up and running.”

     She hesitated, “Perhaps.” 

     The pair of you grew silent after that. It was clear there was more to the story, but you weren’t going to get the rest of it this afternoon. You added it to your list of things to ask about later, maybe to poke Sans’s brain about.

     “alright, alright, settle down.” Speaking of, Sans had claimed center stage and was trying to get everyone’s attention. You leaned back in your chair, more comfortable as you let your eyes trail down his figure, then up again slowly. And if you happened to meet his eyes, smile, and wink at the end? You could blame it on the drink. 

     But the blue on his cheeks at that was such a pretty blue. 

     “listen, our ambassador has made a special request,” He motions back at Frisk, who gives a little wave, “since this is our last gig for a good long time, they want me to sing.” 

     The sad sounds from the crowd immediately erupted into cheers. Toriel makes a little surprised sound that pulls your attention right over to her. 

     She catches your eye and shrugs, “Sans does not usually sing. It has b,een… well, I was still living in New Home when he last sang…”

     You hummed, leaning forward with another sip of your drink. Interesting seems like you were getting all kinds of treats tonight. The crowd was still buzzing, and Sans seemed content to let them carry on chattering away as he mumbled something to Undyne. His eye lights flickered to yours and back, quick enough that you thought you had imagined it. And yet, Undyne turned to scan the audience in your general direction, single yellow eye narrowed as she searched for.. something. Or someone. 

     You slunk down a little in your chair, just in case. 

     Frisk strummed a chord on their guitar, and the crow quieted down just a bit as Sans stepped center stage again, leaning into the mic. 

     “alright, so, this isn’t a song of ours, but it’s a whole lotta fun to play, and to perform. and i don’t really have to sing, so.” His eye lights were twinkling, “best of both worlds, right?”

     Papyrus sighs, but raises his drumsticks obediently. Sans gives him a nod, and he taps out a few military-esque beats on his snare drum. Frisk jumps in, as does Undyne and Sans. The skeleton that you can’t seem to take your eyes off of leans in and jumps in perfectly with the words. 

     “that's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, and aeroplanes, and lenny bruce is not afraid…” Oh wow, there’s a lot of words to chew in this song he’s chosen and he is good at it. He makes it look effortless. “Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn, world serves its own needs, don't mis-serve your own needs, speed it up a notch, speed, grunt, no, strength, the ladder starts to clatter with a fear of height, down, height…”

     You didn’t know monsters appreciated human music too! Grated, you had yet to meet anyone who didn’t appreciate R.E.M. You sit up a little straighter, bobbing your head along in time with the music being played. 

     Sans’s mouth doesn’t usually move when he speaks, the grin on his lips (or lack thereof?) changes shape from smiles to frowns to a thin line when he’s unimpressed, but there’s no actual articulation that happens when he speaks. Papyrus’s mouth moved, opening and closing as he spoke in a manner similar to a puppet, but any further expression was conveyed in his eyes. Much like his brother. It was one of those things you chalked up to being magic. You couldn’t help but wonder if it made all those pitter-patter songs remarkably easy. 

     The monsters in the crowd loved it too - right on cue, the chorus started and the crowd screamed it back at Sans, all smiles and cheer. 

     “It’s the end of the world as we know it! And I feel fine~” 

     You hummed along with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the music washing over you. Something soft touched your hand, pulling your eyes open. Toriel was giving you a soft smile. 

     “Go on, my child. Go dance, I shall watch your drink.” 

     “Well, if you insist,” You grinned back, already half out of your seat, “Thanks.” 

    It seemed the crowd knew you were coming through - it was way too easy to get right up front by the stage. Here, the music was almost too loud, but Frisk finally saw you, and Papyrus made sure to do some extra impressive stick tricks where you could noticeably applaud him and his showmanship. A group of a few rabbit monsters had opened their little dance circle to you, Lulu included. She was… well, she was wearing clothing? A skirt far too short for you, and a tube top that complemented her fur quite nicely. IT wasn’t an outfit you would be comfortable wearing, but you did have to give credit where credit was due. She looked good. 

     You had tried to convey as much with a thumbs up, but she had turned away from you with her little bunny nose up in the air. 

     There was just no winning with some people. 

     The chorus came around, and Sans’s eyes finally found your group. His eye lights found you and you grinned right back up at him, moving in rhythm and singing the accompanying line to yourself as he carried on. The corners of his eye sockets crinkled as he spared a whole moment to sing with you. To you? 

     Whatever the circumstances, your insides fluttered. 

     Then his eyes moved onto Lulu - who had channeled every bit of energy she had into swaying her hips. Her arms dragged up her sides, tracing her silhouette. She was pouring her heart into the dancing - and it looked like she was outlined in a faint purplish-pink. A tendril seemed to extend to Sans, swirling in the pulsing light of the venue, but it hit a wall, about three feet from his person. 

     Huh. Weird. That must have been a trick of the light. 

     You focused back on her dancing just in time to see Lulu blow Sans a kiss - 

     - and to watch Sans actually duck out of the way before returning to the mic. 

     You had to stifle a laugh, shaking your head and bringing your focus back into yourself. There is not a ball of warmth in your stomach at that exchange. But maybe… Just maybe….

     You don’t get a chance to follow that train of thought - Lulu gets a determined glimmer to her eyes, refusing to pull her eyes away form Sans or to stop her dancing. The pale outline gets a little thicker- but still stops a good distance from Sans.

     You wondered just how long she had been trying to get Sans to look at her in the way she wanted him to. How long she had persevered in the face of a cold winter wind from him. 

     You wondered that, if someone as confident as her didn’t stand a chance, how much hope did you really have? 

     You dance out the rest of the song in the same bunny circle, screaming the chorus with the monsters. Lulu… well, she wasn’t exactly welcoming, but at least she wasn’t flat-out ignoring you anymore. The song finished, and you were among the loudest cheers in the audience, clapping loud and long with your hip cocked to one side. Everyone onstage looked so.. so happy! Sans’s eye sockets were crinkled with laughter, waving a hand in thanks at Frisk, who had just thrown him a water bottle. 

     Actually, now that you could see Frisk from this angle, there was something off about their smile. They kept looking to their left, almost like they were expecting another person. 

     “SANS! I LOVE YOU!” 

     You signed, turning to look over your shoulder at a dog-monster. Who was, on closer inspection, holding a very large, mostly empty bottle, and appeared to be quite sloshed. Your eyes met Lulu’s, and for the first time, you shared a moment - an eye roll at some people’s manners.  It doesn’t stop there though.

     “SANS, PLEASE, BONE ME!” 

     You winced, right around the same time Sans did. If you hadn’t been looking so closely at him, you would have missed it. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and pinched the fingers of his free hand together and pulled down - conjuring a bone from thin air. He took a moment to breathe, taking a long, slow drink from the bottle before pulling back with a sigh. 

     It was a very cinematic moment, from your point of view.

     Especially when he gave a lazy “sure thing.” with one eye closed and flattened his hand, effectively pushing the bone at the dog-monster in question. It was a wonderful arc, a perfect pitch straight into the dog’s hand. The bone flipped over itself slowly, glinting with that pale blue you’d come to associate with Sans. The skeleton himself looked so chill about the whole thing. 

     Was your throat a little dry? 

     The dog monster gave a howl, tail wagging a mile a minute. She spun in a circle, jumping and holding the bone tightly to herself. 

     “I’M GONNA DEEP THROAT YOUR BONE!” 

     Sans’s face falters, that token smile dropping at the corners and any hint of joy vanishing from his eyes. He glances back at Papyrus, who is looking equal parts sad and confused. It’s at that exact moment you know that catcall - wolf whistle? Monster technicalities aside, it wasn’t okay. 

     You scowl and straighten, calling out over the heads of the bodies on the dance floor. 

     “Dude! Not okay!” You shout, glaring at the dog when she turns to look at you, “That’s insanely rude!” 

     She sticks one long, slobbery tongue out at you, “Jealous much? Not my fault he knows a bad bitch when he sees one!” 

     You roll your eyes, cocking your hips with both hands on them and raising your voice a little more, “Right, ‘cause sexually harassing someone make you a ‘bad bitch,’” Your hands accompany your words in air quotes, illustrating each word as it leaves your lips “You’re allowed to be a fan, and you’re allowed to think he’s attractive, but keep any other sexual thoughts or whatever crammed inside your own skull, okay?” 

     The dog monster’s ears fold flat against their head. Other people and monsters are starting to stare. Between the anger in your eyes and the shame in hers, you had a feeling you would win this. She blinked, dropping her head, and nodded. There was no apology, but you knew enough dogs to know when they were sorry. 

     What she did with that bone was her business. It wasn’t fair to force that on everyone else, let alone Sans. 

     Holy crap. Sans. 

     You winced as your shoulders crept up to your ears and your face got a little warm. Slowly, you turned back to look at him, fully ready to apologize for interrupting the show, but not for what you said. You were fully prepared for disappointment, for him to never invite you to another show again. 

     Instead, you were greeted with a look of.. disbelief? His eye sockets were wide, the lights in them little pinpricks, and his mouth was drooped in an expression of disbelief. Then slowly, oh so slowly, one corner of his mouth quirked up and you exhaled a sigh of relief, rubbing at the back of your neck. He wasn’t upset with you! Thank goodness. 

     “WELL, NOW THAT  _ THAT _ SHOW IS OVER, LET US CONTINUE WITH THE MUSIC!” Papyrus called as she stood up. He was adjusting something… putting what looked like mutes over the drums of his kit. Undyne was paying with the different outputs on her keyboard with the help of a yellow lizard in a spotted dress, and Frisk was re-tuning their guitar. Seemed like they had big plans for this next number. 

     Sans was still looking at you with immense amounts of gratitude in his eye lights. 

     You didn’t do anything special, no one deserved to be catcalled, or any variation thereof. 

      It’s what was right.

      Papyrus placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, pulling him back into the moment. The two skeletons shared a moment, then nodded. In the blink of an eye, Sans was back to his usual self again, self-assured and chill. 

     Maybe you had too much of that Liquid Courage that Toriel had grabbed for you. 

     You closed your eyes and breathed in the first notes of the next song, it was a little spooky, much more like the EDM-style music Napstablook and Shyren had opened with. Undyne was playing a few notes to supplement a melody, and Papyrus’s drums had gone techno. Even the bass was distorted just enough that the whole thing felt like a boss fight in a video game. It was a sound that resonated in your chest, tugging at a.. at a something that affirmed your belief that what you had just done was correct. 

     The music swirled around you, filling every inch of you with a strong want for  _ something _ that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It raced around you, just out of reach. Twirling away from whatever train of thought decided to try and catch it. It felt like the first beam of sun on a rainy afternoon, like acing a test that you studied for and it smelled like old books, or sand. 

    You opened your eyes, finding yourself with a grin on your face as you watched the band fall back into the playful rhythm they had before being interrupted. Papyus looked like he was having the time of his life, locked in a staring contest with Undyne as the two played back and forth together. Frisk was slowly backing out of the light, letting others take the stage. So was Sans, but it was hard to look away from that burning left eye of his. 

     A burning eye that was flashing that same vibrant blue from before, coupled with the brightest yellow you had ever seen. 

     It was a good look on him. 

     You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and turned, expecting Toriel to pull you back to your seat. What you weren’t expecting was a pair of blue eyes and a pink rabbit nose. 

     “Oh, uh, hey. Lulu, right?” 

     She huffed, crossing her arms now that she had your attention, “Look. I don’t like you a whole lot, okay?” You raised your hands in surrender, preparing to back away only to have her lift a hand and stop you, “But that? Was pretty cool of you.” 

     Her ears dropped, “And I’ve been chasing after him for a long time, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone with that much respect before,” She was examining her nails now, pretty pink little numbers that matched her skirt, “So what I’m trying to say is good job. You’re alright. But I still don’t like you.” 

     You offered her an open hand, only explaining when she raised one eyebrow (and the matching ear) at you. 

     “You don’t have to like me. But for what it’s worth, I admire your perseverance,” You shrugged, “And, honestly, anyone who’s confident to wear a skirt that short deserves a few points.” 

     Lulu blinked, then let out a dry laugh before shaking her head. She flipped an ear over her shoulder watching you carefully, “So, what’re you saying?” 

     “Truce?”  

     Lulu looked at the stage. Whatever she saw there frustrated her beyond belief for a moment - until she exhaled and relaxed. Suddenly she didn’t look so uppity anymore, she looked… soft. Shy, maybe. Then she surprised you. 

     Lulu shook your hand. 

     “Yeah, truce.” She smiled at you - a real, genuine smile that let you know she was being honest with you at this moment, “Though I’m still gonna be a little pissed if you actually manage to bag him.” 

     You laughed as you finished the handshake, “Bag who?”

      Lulu rolled her eyes, and flipped her ear back again, “Uh-huh, ask me that again in a few days. I’m gonna head home. You have a nice night, okay?” 

     “Yeah. You too, safe travels home, okay?” 

     She smiled at you one last time, then turned and vanished into the crowd with just as much sway in her hips as the last time you had watched her walk away. In fact, you were just about to head back to your table when she came hopping out of the crowd again, hand outstretched. 

     “Give me your phone, I’ll give you my number and let you know when I get home, kay?”

     You blinked but obliged. 

     “Listen, I know I’m ot the kindest monster, but I’ve known everyone on that stage  _ way  _ longer than you have,” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “So when you have questions, you message me first. If I can’t have him, I at least want all the gory details, alright?” 

     She handed you your phone back, “And don’t you dare leave anything out.” She pointed to fingers at her eyes, then at you, and vanished back into the crowd.

      You wished you had her confidence. 

     Toriel was having a chat with Grillby when you returned, amiably discussing something that brought a laugh to Grillby’s… face? his shoulders were shaking with something that looked a lot like laughter but you couldn’t hear anything. 

     Must be more magic stuff. 

    Grillby was the first to notice your return.  _ Well, well, well. It was very good of you to speak up like that. I know I appreciate it, as does Sans. _

     “Indeed. He gets so many offers while he’s onstage, I’m surprised people still offer.” Toriel piped up, taking a sip of a lime green beverage. 

     You slid back into your seat, not quite making eye contact with the other monsters, “It was the right thing to do.” 

_ Ah, I see, _ you heard Grillby’s voice crackle,  _ You are aware you were glowing, correct? _

__ “I wasn’t glowing,” You frowned, “But I thought I saw some purple steaming off of Lulu…” 

_ It happens from time to time. Perhaps you will notice it next time.  _ Grillby placed a hand on your shoulder,  _ I should return to my post. I wanted to thank you personally for scolding that pup. She does not have her mother’s manners quite yet.  _

__ “You’re welcome?” 

     Grillby nodded. He then bowed to Toriel, taking one large paw in his and pressing his forehead to it before turning back to the bar. Toriel waved him off, and the pair of you listened to the rest of the set together. The silence between numbers was peppered with comfortable conversation, but most of the evening was spent in companionable silence. You did manage to learn a few things though. Toriel had pulled out a large gold pendant from inside her dress, and a quick image search had revealed it to be the monster’s Seal of Royalty. That made her the former Queen of Monsters. 

     Man, could your friends get any cooler? 

     Toriel excused herself at one point, pulling Grillby out from behind the ba and demanding he dance with her when Frisk took the lead on this next song. Instead of singing, their guitar did the work for them, coaxing a calming melody through the accompanying rhythms and harmonies the rest of the band supplied. 

     And yet… something was off about it.  The stings didn’t quite bend the way their fingers did, and the notes were too crisp - like brand new strings. 

     You had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t Frisk’s first choice of a guitar. The black wasn’t right. It wasn’t an instrument that  _ fitted _ them. You couldn’t put your finger on the right phrasing, but something was up. Frisk was definitely more of a red-guitar person. With a more classic look, like something that belonged on stage in the ‘50s. 

     Why was this bothering you so much? 

     The good news is you were distracted from that train of thought as they switched the melody over to something with more swing. It was jazzy, and gave Grillby a more solid dance style, it seemed. He and Toriel flew over the dance floor, spinning each other and lifting with bright smiles on their faces. Well, Toriel had a bright smile. Grillby was burning brighter. They were on fire! 

     Heh. You would have to remember to mention that one to Sans later. 

     Undyne takes over for the last song - a rock ballad about a princess with flowing pink hair and a really,  _ really  _ big sword that sounds a little like a movie you might have watched? But she’s so into it you don’t really mind hearing the story again. the four band members strike a pose as it finishes, and the crowd cheers. One by one, each member takes a bow and leaves the stage, taking the instruments they can carry with them. A curtain closes, and Shyren steps back up. The music she sings is calming, soothing and smooth - definitely a signal that she’ll be the last act tonight and everyone should start wrapping up. 

     Toriel calls your name, “I have to move my van around the back for them to load their supplies, would you like to accompany me?” 

     You nodded and downed the last of your drink in one gulp, enjoying the last of the warmth, “Absolutely!”

     She began to rise and you followed suit, bowing with a giggle and allowing her to lead the way backstage. 

     The pair of you didn’t make it very far. A hand closed around your wrist and turned you around, pulling you tight to their front. Their breath smelled like cigarettes and whiskey, and their suit was… well, disheveled, to say the least. And not in an attractive way either. Ruffled tabby fur, lidded green-yellow eyes, and an exhale full of smoke that set you on a coughing fit greeted you.

     “Heeeey, little buddy,” A voice drawled way too close to your ear, “I saw your moves on the floor, they’re pretty good. Care to give me a private show?” 

     “No thanks, I’ll pass,” you grimaced, trying to pry his hand off your wrist, “Not really my style.” 

     He wheezed out a laugh, “Playing hard to get? I see, I see. Well, how’s about I sweeten the pot with a little show of my own--” 

     “ **she said no, pal.** ”

     The cat monster’s face dropped, eyes widening and immediately releasing your hand. He took two steps back, “Hey, it’s cool, little buddy, it’s cool. I was just asking.” 

     Your eyes caught a glint of something shiny on their left paw, “Maybe you should ask your partner for a show instead - his name’s Jimmy, right?” 

    The cat monster sighed, every aspect of his body sagging as he rubbed at the back of his neck, “Yeah. Yeah you’re right, I should…. I should call him, he’s probably worried about me.” 

     Sans stepped forward from behind you, placing a hand on their forearm, “You want me to call him for you, BP?” 

     “Nah, nah, I’ve got it.” He waved Sans off, offering you an apologetic look, “Sorry to bother you, miss.” 

     You watched him walk away, with a frown on your lips. Jimmy had seemed a little down last time you had seen him, you would have to ask how things were at home. Sans had an equally pensive expression on his face. 

     “it’s a shame, i really thought that was gonna work out,” he shook his head. He was still wearing the same outfit he had worn on stage, but with his hoodie unzipped. He still looked delightful, but you weren’t about to tell him as much. 

     That Liquid Courage had worn off hours ago. 

     “Yeah, Jimmy seemed so happy about it.” You hummed. 

     Sans made a sound of acknowledgment, turning back to face you, “battle for another day?”

     You nodded as you tucked loose hair behind one ear. Sans jerked his skull to one side, a gesture for you to follow him. 

     “c’mon, you wanna meet the rest of the band?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a discord server! Because I like to talk to people and tumblr isn't a great place for me lately. So!
> 
> >>>> https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH <<<<
> 
> Songs Referenced:   
>  End of the World (As We Know It) ---> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0GFRcFm-aY  
>  Justice (Instrumental) -------------> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pG0DGTtdtb4
> 
> See y'all in the next update!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to meet the band post-show!

     The entrance to get backstage is just as hidden as the entrance to the club was - which means it wasn’t hidden at all. A plain black curtain to the left of the stage concealed yet another hallway that was well lit, the walls were plastered in band posters. There was a rabbit monster couple pressed up against one wall, pulled so close to each other that if their furs weren't different shades you wouldn’t have been able to tell where one monster ended and another began. They were whispering in the other’s ear, giggling as you passed. 

     There was always one couple in every venue, right? At least these two had been polite enough to sneak away. 

     “so what’d ya think?” Sans glanced over his shoulder, lazy smile in place. His eye lights seemed a little bigger than normal as he looked at you, “not bad for almost a decade without a proper gig.” 

     Your brows lifted, “A decade? Mettaton made it sound like longer than that. Also, _Mettaton’s_ your announcer?!” You threw your hands up in disbelief, “I mean, come on, Sans! How could you not mention that?” 

     Sans shrugged, “he’s just mettaton.” 

      _Just Mettaton_ , jeez. “Okay Sans, sorry we’re not all friends with international movie stars.”

     Sans’s shoulders shook with laughter, eye-sockets crinkling shut. He was unapologetic, it seemed. 

     That’s alright, getting an actual laugh out of him was worth it. 

     You grinned to yourself as you followed him a little further down the hall, slowing to a stop next to a plain, black door. He seems to hesitate, and though his smile hardly moves you can see the corner of his eye sockets lose their happy little crinkle. It’s enough to make your own eyebrows furrow as you reach a hand out to rest on his shoulder - of course, he speaks before you can touch him and you quickly retract your hand. 

     “my friends are… a lot.” the line of his shoulders tightens as he blinks slowly, “if they’re too much... you don’t have to -”

     You lifted a hand, “I’m going to stop you right there,” This is also a good time to rest your hand on his shoulder in a gesture intended to comfort him, “If they’re anything like Frisk and Papyrus, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” 

     Sans’s eye lights flicker across your face for a moment, looking for something you have to hope he finds. You brighten your smile just a tad as you give his shoulder a squeeze. His eyes close and he shakes his head with the beginnings of a laugh on his teeth. 

     “don’t say i didn’t warn you.” 

     You just shrugged. It was going to be fine, right? 

     Sans glanced at the door and the moment it swung open you were assaulted with sound. 

     “COME ON, KID, I KNOW YOU CAN MOVE FASTER THAN THAT!” A female voice shouted, louder than anything you had ever seen. It was followed by a loud “FUHUHUHUHU!” as something neon blue came hurling at the space where the door once was. 

     Y’know. The space where you were currently standing. 

     Was that a spear? 

     You felt a skeletal hand grab your arm and tug you close - _hard_. The next sensation you experienced was… hard to describe. 

     It felt like the world had dropped out from under you - like that moment on a rollercoaster when you reached the peak before the biggest drop, or when you feel like you’re falling in bed only to jerk away with your heart racing. Then came color. So much color your eyes didn’t know what to do with it all so it just rendered as black. In the distance, you could see what looked like a white cloud - until many dark, empty eyes turned to face you with gaping jaws and massive teeth. You were floating in this… this void.. with someone holding you tight to their chest. 

     You blinked. 

     You were inside the room, beside Papyrus who had a hand extended and was in the process of scolding the monster who had thrown said spear. 

     “UNDYNE, I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL! THIS IS A LESS THAN IDEAL SPACE FOR TRAINING!” 

     “Not my fault, the kid started it!” There was the voice that had shouted when the door opened, “If they didn’t want to dodge spears they shouldn’t have asked how fast I could throw them!”

     Frisk is slumped against the wall by the door with their arms wrapped around their middle, shoulders shaking and brown hair swaying as they laughed. It was a little hoarse from lack-of-use but brought a smile to your face nonetheless. They settled just a bit, wiping an imaginary tear from their golden eye as they waved at you. 

      _I swear we didn’t mean to hit you, but the look on your face was priceless_. 

     They laughed again as Undyne whirled to face them, “Hey! You started this, kid! Don’t you forget it!” 

      _Uh huh. Sure thing Undyne, whatever you say_. 

     “undyne, you’ve gotta be more careful. humans are squishy.” Sans chimed in beside you. When had he let go? 

     You raised your hands and shook your head, “Wait, hold on. We were there and now we’re here, and someone’s throwing spears near expensive instruments and no one is questioning the fact that I blinked and moved?”

     Everyone fell silent. Undyne looked at Sans, then at Papyrus. Papyrus looked at Sans and then Undyne. There was a moment of clear, silent communication between the two - eyebrows moving in various places, grins and frowns and at one point anime eyes? It was put to a firm stop by Papyrus, who just looked at you and shrugged. 

     “WE’RE MONSTERS, MAGIC IS A PART OF WHO WE ARE.” 

     Right, because that explained everything. 

     You closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to make peace with that statement. When you opened them again, you immediately look at Sans and pointed a finger at him, “We are having a discussion about what the heck just happened later, okay?” 

     Sans raised his hands in surrender. You took that as a yes. 

     Then the scary fish lady said your name. 

      “So, you’re the one Papyrus keeps blabbering about, huh?” She said as she walked up to you. Now that you were closer to her, she towered over you. Her skin glinted in the lighting, blue scales catching your eyes in stark contrast to her red hair and yellow eyes. Her lips parted in the fiercest grin you’ve ever seen, and those teeth were a bit too sharp for our liking. 

     “Name’s Undyne,” she thrust a hand out at you. You timidly reached out to shake it, only for her to pull you in much too close and squeeze just a little too tight. You squeaked. 

     “Listen here, _punk_ ,” She growled through her smile, “If you hurt either of these skeletons or Frisk, and I hear about it? I’m going to punch you so hard your great great great great great---” this went on for another thirty seconds, her hand squeezing tighter around yours with every word “--great-great grandkids will feel it, understand?” 

     You mustered a quiet “yes ma’am” before she pulled back and looked you up and down once more. 

     “I don’t know, Paps, she seems kinda wimpy.” Undyne murmured behind one webbed hand. That was a new, fascinating detail. How did she play the piano with the extra skin there? 

     “NONSENSE UNDYNE, THEY ARE JUST…” 

     “Intimidated!” You blurted out, “I mean, you’re _the Undyne_ , anyone in their right mind would be at least a little intimidated to actually meet you.” 

     There’s more silence, which you only punctuate with the most awkward of smiles. 

     Jeesh, tough crowd. Sans is absolutely no help - he seems to have decided leaning back against the wall and getting in a quick power nap was the best course of action.

     A small voice spoke up from by all the boxed instruments and sound equipment, “Y-y’know. She’s right, Undyne. You are p-pretty intimidating,” There was a little bit of a shuffle as the monster the voice belonged to stepped forward, “I-I-I know I was a little scared to talk to you the first time I met you.” 

     The voice gets quieter and quieter as her sentence wraps up. This monster was a little yellow lizard, with a crown of spikes across the top of her head and a pair of round glasses perched on her snout. She was short and stout and wearing a polka-dotted dress. She absolutely refused to meet anyone’s eyes, instead focusing on her talon-tipped fingers. Everything about Undyne’s demeanor softened as she stepped forward, though she did shoot a glare at you to see what you would say. 

     It seemed like now was the best time to introduce yourself. 

     You gave a little wave at the monsters before you as you stated your name, “Look, can we start again? I think the teleporting threw me off a bit.”

     Papyrus was all over this idea and stepped right in to (re)introduce every member of his band. Frisk finger gunned and winked at you, Sans didn’t even move, Undyne grinned wide and Papyrus gave you a hug. 

     “AND THIS IS ALPHYS. SHE IS OUR SOUND TECHNICIAN!” He says proudly, displaying Alphys with his arms extended, and some jazz hands. 

     You smiled, “It’s great to meet you guys. I hope those cables I send home with Sans the other day were what you were looking for, Alphys.”

     The lizard monster nodded, still not quite meeting your eyes, “Y-yes. The work great. We used them tonight - they’re much clearer with Undyne’s playing!”

     “HEY! I play FINE. You have to SMASH the keys to get the best sound! Everyone knows that!!!” 

     Alphys rolled her eyes, but the smile she gave Undyne was the fondest thing you had ever seen, “Of course d-dear.” 

     Ah, so they were a couple. That was… actually, really precious. And made sense in a lot of ways. There was the short and tall trope, the tough and shy trope, even their colorings complimented the other nicely when they were standing next to each other. 

     It warmed your heart. 

     You definitely did not glance at Sans. 

     “What system do you use? There were a lot of extra effects in those tunes and I didn’t see nearly enough pedals for all of them.” You shoved your hands in your pockets, hoping you weren’t crossing any boundaries with Alphys. 

     It seemed to be exactly what she needed. Her eyes started to sparkle behind her glasses as she nodded, “I-it will be easier to show you! Come on!” 

★★★★★ 

     Sans was an expert at looking like he was asleep. Underground, sleep was the most terrifying thing in the world to him. Nightmares where the only thing he can remember is his brother’s dusty scarf, or golden eyes turning vibrantly red before feeling something slash through his hoodie. Nightmares of something that definitely happened - but he kept finding himself back in bed on that damn Thursday morning. 

     He never could get the hang of Thursdays. 

     Papyrus had promised not to tell, but his bass had been in pristine condition before Frisk came through the Underground. He was a clever little skeleton, always reverse engineering whatever he couldn’t figure out. He polished it almost daily, practiced and played for hours on end. 

     Until he hit what felt like his hundredth Thursday. 

     Frisk - except it wasn’t Frisk, not the one he met the first time and not the one he knew now - had been on a rampage with rosy cheeks and a wide smile. He watched his brother’s life get extinguished with a puff of smoke and a cloud of dust as a red scarf fluttered to the ground.

     His bass didn’t make it through the night. 

     Neither did the Human. 

     He woke up the next morning in a panic - everything tinted blue and random objects around his mess of a room suspended midair. Including his bass. He smashed it to the ground. Every. Single. Time. 

     It had taken Sans eight years to work through those issues. Eight years to even remotely forgive Frisk for the damage they caused - regardless of whatever spirit was supposedly possessing them at the time. He didn’t know how many times Frisk had “reset” to get the right path, or how many times his brother died. He frequently had nightmares of the one death he experienced. All Sans knew was that, in the last two versions of his timeline, he knew Frisk was trying to set it right. They had gone through once and not touched a soul - he had encountered them as they stumbled free of the Ruins, a little burnt but otherwise no worse for wear. A cracked branch, an offered hand - they had turned before he had even finished asking for their hand. 

     He had grown up speaking with his hands, so when Frisk had given him the saddest smile possible and signed _I’m Sorry_ , he had no reason for the tears that had just started spilling from his eye sockets. 

     All the Humans that had come Underground only left pain in their wake. Even Frisk. 

     Sans was still learning not to immediately dislike them. 

     Especially after how people had treated his brother once they reached the surface. 

     Especially with how many times Alphys had returned to their neighborhood in tears because of some idiot who didn’t understand that she was beyond shy and nervous and needed a minute to gather her thoughts before she spoke. 

     Especially after Undyne had spent a weekend in a cell because some humans had decided to throw a punch, and she had defended herself. 

     Sure, Undyne had almost put the human in the hospital with one swing, but it was the point of the thing. Humans had been (more often than not) seriously unkind to his family and friends ever since they found the sun again. 

     Why hadn’t he disliked you from the start? 

     Sans watched you with lidded eyes from where he leaned on the wall. Alphys seemed more than happy to gush about her equipment and how she used it in the show. Undyne wasn’t far behind, chiming in with how AMAZING her girlfriend was. At everything. 

     You had jumped headfirst into friendship with him and his brother. 

     And… You had reopened the door to his life before.

     “Whatever could have captured your attention so completely, dear Sans?”

     “...ya know, tori, im not really sure yet.” Sans murmurs and slides his eye lights over to the former queen. “tryin to figure that out.” 

     Toriel hums and nods, but the light in her eyes said she knew more than she would say, “I see.”

     There was a lot that went unspoken in those two words. Enough to get Sans to turn his head to face her completely. He raised one brow bone and tilted his head ever so slightly, waiting for what Toriel would say next. 

     “I would like to believe I know you rather well,” Toriel dropped her gaze from his for a moment, the tips of her soft ears going a little pink, “I care for you, you are one of my closest friends. I do not want to see you get hurt.” 

     Sans makes a small sound in acknowledgment but offers no response quite yet. He knows she’s not done. 

     “I also want you to be happy. Which is why I need to remind you about what happened the last time I saw you move that quickly to protect someone from accidental harm.”

     Sans sighed and rested his head on the wall behind him, eyes closed, “dunno what you're talking about.” 

     “Yes. You do. You’re not as ignorant as you look.” 

     “heh, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

     “Sans, why did you invite her tonight?” 

     Sans cracks one eye socket to look at Toriel and shrugs. She immediately fixes him with a look that pulls a chuckle out of him. “papyrus wanted to invite her.” 

     She grins right back at him and Sans knows he’s lost this one, “Incorrect. I spoke to your brother first, he claims it was your idea.” 

     “look, tori,” Sans sighs with a shake of his head, “there aren’t a lot of humans out there that don’t rub me the wrong way. she… seemed okay. rolls with the punches, likes my jokes.”

     “And?”

     “and… and she plays viola,” He shrugs, “playing lead is great and all, but i don’t really like being the center of attention. it’s more pap’s thing.” 

     Toriel nods but doesn’t offer any more words of her own. He isn’t in the clear just yet. 

     “tori, she’s a good person, okay. she’s a.. a…” He fumbles for the word, “a friend.” 

     Huh. Why did that feel weird coming out of his mouth?

     “A friend. I see.” Toriel seems satisfied with that answer, but her eyes are shining now and Sans knows she is going to ask him more about it later. “Harmony and not melody, correct?” 

     He shrugged, “just cause i can play guitar doesn’t mean i like it. bass fits better.”

     “And viola is the same, if I’m not mistaken.” 

     “toriel, where are you going with this?” 

     “Absolutely nowhere, my friend.” She smiles, “But don’t let Alphys see you looking at her like that.”

     “like what?”

     Toriel lets out a peal of laughter and leaves his side to go help Frisk finish packing up the rest of the equipment and load it into her van. 

     “toriel, like what?!” 

     Sans gets no response and decides it might be better to let sleeping goats lie with their secrets. You’ve got Alphys and Undyne laughing with you know, with a grin on your face that is usually the one on his after some particularly good wordplay. He tunes in to your conversation just in time. 

     “FUHUHUHU - a flat miner, Jeez! You could give Sans’s jokes a run for their money!” Undyne says, very loudly, with a slap on your back. Sans watches you wince from the force of it, but you grin and bear it.

     You catch him looking at you and a sly grin slips into place, “Sans is willing to run for his money? I didn’t think anything could make him move faster than a stroll.” 

     Alphys slaps a clawed hand over her mouth - but not before a snort escaped. Undyne howled with laughter, bracing herself on her knees and pointing from Sans to you and back again. 

     “HA! BECAUSE HE’S LAZY! THAT’S AMAZING!” 

     Sans presses a hand to his chest, “i’m hurt, kid. i thought we were pals.” He clutches the fabric of his hoodie in his hands, “hurts my heart, kiddo.” 

     “Oh Sans,” You mosey over and give him a pitying look, “You don’t have a heart to hurt.” 

     He chuckles, “watch yourself, you’re not gonna like it when i decide to fight back.” 

     Your eyes light up like he just gave you the best gift in the world, then quickly school your expression into something that seems a little more cool and collected - for a moment anyway. You give the top of his head a pat and trail your hand down the side of his face to rest on his cheek. He feels his smile falter and his eye sockets go wide at the touch. Your eyes are sparkling with something that looks like delight with a heaping spoonful of mischief.

     “Sans, sweetheart,” You give his cheek a few light pats, “You don’t have the _guts_.”

     Something wraps itself tight around his soul at the joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to join the Discord! Chat with me! It's the best was to get more content faster - the more people chat with me about it, the more the ideas flow and the sooner you get an update! ;)
> 
> >>> https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH <<<


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne and Alphys take you out for dinner, you get a new phone, and things slowly start rolling along to the actual plot.

     You sigh and rest your head on the counter, absent-mindedly petting Whispurr where they’re sprawled on the counter by your head. Mondays were the slowest days of the week, with no exceptions. It seemed like people hadn’t had a chance to break their instruments yet, or they were all just so miserable from the simple fact that it was Monday they couldn’t be bothered to try and do anything fun. It made your days very dull and very long. 

     Perhaps that was why your dad had insisted on opening no earlier than 10:00 AM on Mondays. 

     He wasn’t even in on Mondays, it’s not like he could suffer with you. 

     You sigh again and push your face into your cat's soft fur, mumbling to yourself in a private lament about how much you hated Mondays. The bell on the door jingles - a welcome reprieve from your boredom - and you lift your face just enough to see who’s entering the shop. 

     It’s Alphys, from Sans’s show the other night. Undyne is with her too. 

    “Good morning!” You chirp and wipe a hand down your face as you straighten, hopefully removing any lingering cat hair, “What brings you two here today?” 

     Alphys gives a wave, trots up to the counter, “I-I-I-” She stops, and makes a frustrated face at herself before trying again, “I wanted to see if you were free for some pizza tonight, we didn’t get to chat a wh-whole lot at the show the other night.” She tugged Undyne forward to stand at the counter, “ _We_ wanted to get to know you a little more!” 

     Undyne rolled her eyes, “Is this the part where I chime in?” 

     You blinked. That was bunt. 

     “ _Yes,_ sweetheart,” Alphys hissed, narrowing her eyes at Undyne, she looked at you with an apologetic glance and pulled Undyne a few steps away from the counter. They were trying to be quiet, obviously arguing about something that you did your best to ignore by petting your cat. 

     “Undyne, there’s a reason she was invited to the show! We’re never going to find out if you’re being rude!” Alphys hissed again, arms crossed at her companion. 

     Undyne huffed and rubbed at her forearms, “I know, I know. but do you remember what happened the last time _he_ invited _someone_ to see us play there was some pretty serious fallout.” 

     Alphys pouted up at Undyne with the most impressive set of puppy eyes you had ever seen on a lizard monster. Undyne growled but huffed and relented. She whirled to face you, determination showing in her one yellow eye as she stomped up to the counter and slammed her hands on the counter before you. The noise startled Whispurr, who jumped straight up and scurried over to cower behind Alphys, ears back and pupils narrow. 

     “OKAY, LISTEN.” Undyne began, “I don’t really like humans. I don’t really like you. _BUT_ , Alphys liked you the other night, so I’m going to give you a chance. Just one. Don’t mess it up.” 

     The fish woman sighed and turned back to her partner, who made an encouraging thumbs-up motion. “Human, you wanna get food after work? It’s pizza night.” 

     You straightened and blinked, glancing at Alphys over Undyne’s shoulder, “Uh, sure? Pizza would be good.”

     “Great.” Undyne grinned, it definitely didn’t put you on edge at all, “I’ll see you at 6:00.” 

     Undyne turned and muttered something about waiting outside to Alphys before she left, hands stuffed in pockets and mumbling to herself. Alphys approached the counter, taping the tips of her pointer fingers and not quite meeting your eyes. 

     “I-I had a lot of fun chatting with you last night. Undyne is just…” She hesitates, watching your cat wind around her legs, “She’s protective of her friends. Especially those skeletons. Her and Papyrus have been best friends forever, and the brothers are s-so close that if something were to break Sans’s heart then… S-she wouldn’t be happy.” 

     “And here I thought we were going to be pals after last night.” You shrugged, “It’s alright. I get it. I’ve got a few friends I’m like that with. I swear, hurting Sans is the last thing on my mind.” 

     Alphys nodded and cautiously held out a hand, “C-can I grab your contact info? So we can chat closer to dinner time!” 

     You offered a soft smile, pulling your phone from your pocket and gently placing it in her hand, “Sure thing! It’d be nice to have another friend to chat with.”

     Alphys looks at your phone like its a piece of trash. Her upper lip crinkles and she brandishes it between two fingers. She is actually disgusted by the technology you’ve just handed to her and doesn’t hesitate to say as much. 

     “What on Earth is t-this?” She grimaces. 

    “It’s an iPhone. An old one, but still,” you shrug, “Better than an Android.”

     Alphys visibly shutters at that sentiment and you can’t help but snort. You weren’t exactly a big fan of how Android ran their business and Apple wasn’t the greatest since Steve Jobs passed, but at least they weren’t actively selling your information. At least, not as far as you knew. Alphys punched in her information as quick as she physically could an all but threw the phone at you. You catch it, just barely, and laugh at her reaction. 

     “So, guess I’ll see you after work?”

★★★★★ 

     At least there was one thing monsters and people both wholly agreed on - pineapple did not belong on pizza. Undyne had asked if you were one of those people, and you had informed her that any sane human viewed it as an abomination. It was the first time since the night of the show she had given you an actual smile that reached her eye. Alphys, on the other hand, had been a little disappointed. She had been a little curious about that flavor combination. 

     “It’s really not that good,” You reassured her around a sip of soda, “The pineapple is weirdly sweet? And if it’s Hawaiian then a lot of the places up here do the honey roasted ham, and that just makes it sweeter.” 

     “I-is pizza not supposed to be sweet?” Alphys asked, talons tapping out a steady rhythm on the tabletop as the pair of you waited for Undyne to return from the restroom. 

     You shrugged, “I don’t think so. Some places do dessert pizza with candy piled on it, usually, there’s a cinnamon sugar option that is the most acceptable. But I just don’t think pizza should be sweet.” 

     Alphys hummed, her eyes glassing over for a moment as she thought about what you had just said. Undyne slid into the seat next to her, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend and sparing a moment to rest her forehead against Alphys’s. She had changed her clothes since then. She was wearing blue sweatpants that had a white stripe down the side, and what looked to be a matching hoodie tied at her waist. She was wearing the same black tank top that she was earlier, though. The whole outfit was a little familiar… Maybe it would come to you later? 

     There was a sweet moment between the two. Undyne looked… she looked tired, you realized. Alphys ran a hand through her hair, expression softening as she nuzzled her girlfriend. 

     You turned your gaze to the counter and watched the people in the kitchen make your order. They deserved a little privacy. 

     They also reminded you of your mom. 

     You missed her. A lot. 

     Alphys pulled you from you daydreaming with a gentle call of your name. You blinked and turned back to the pair of them, sipping on your soda. Undyne still had her arms wrapped around her girlfriend while Alphys pulled out her phone. 

     “I hope you don’t m-mind, but I didn’t want a friend to be w-working on such an outdated piece of technology. I-I didn’t have anything else to do today, s-s-so I made you a-a-a-” She seemed to give up on the sentence then. The scales on her face took on a pinkish hue as she handed you a sleek black rectangle. “N-n-no one should have an iPhone as old as thatin this day and age.” 

     You carefully took the object from her hand and gasped - at least you tried to, but you had been in the process of drinking and only managed to inhale your beverage and start coughing. Alphys gave a worried little “Oh!” and jumped across the table to pat you on the back. You waved her off, finally clearing your throat when you could breathe again. 

     “Alphys, you really didn’t have to do that!” You exclaimed as you turned the new phone over in your hands, “This is seriously nice. I don’t have the money to pay you back right now, and I don’t want to seem like a freeloader -”

     Undyne sighed, “Listen, punk. Al made this for you out of the goodness of her heart - in a couple of hours because she is a-fucking-mazing, not because she wanted you in her debt for the next foreseeable few decades. Take the phone.” 

     You got the impression no one argued with Undyne, so you swallowed your protests and gave Alphys the most grateful smile you could manage. 

     “Thank you, seriously. You made this?” 

      Alphys ducked her head, hiding behind one hand, “I-it’s really no big deal. I made them for all my f-friends in the Underground.” 

     You gave a long, low whistle as you turned it over and over in your hands. It was a marvel of technology, nothing like the devices you were familiar with from your human manufacturers. It was thin, covered in a slick, black metal that seemed to glint with the light it caught from the restaurant’s pale lighting. 

     “Y’know, I can’t remember the last time I had anything even close to a smartphone. You might have to teach me how it works.” 

     Boy, you though Alphys lit up at the mention of her sound tech. The shines in her eyes were twice as large as that time, and it was the first time you had heard her talk without a stutter. It seemed that was her nerves getting in the way of her speech. When she didn’t give herself a chance to think about what was being said she spoke a mile a minute. It was hard to keep up. There were a couple moments where you had to ask for clarification - and boy did she give it. You had to know about as much about your new monster phone as you did about your own viola. 

     “--- and this is your inventory!” Alphys pointed to a little box icon on the home screen, “so you get your own storage! Wherever you go!”

     You ooh’d and aah’d at all the appropriate instances, especially that little demonstration. You would be able to carry so many snacks - you would never be hungry again! 

     “Alphys, this is amazing! Seriously, this is.. I don’t even have the right words!” 

     The yellow lizard monster turned away from you, waving away your compliment with a hand. 

     You hummed, “But really, how am I supposed to repay you for this?” 

      Alphys and Undyne shared a look that seemed to spell trouble. Undyne rolled her one eye, but the light in there was definitely less hostile than before. 

     “Well, there is one thing you could do…” Undyne stood up, grinning fiercely as a cyan spear manifested in her hand. She stomped a foot on the table and pointed the spear at your face - you squished yourself as far into your seat as you could, squeaking at the sudden display of aggressiveness. One of your hands reached out to grab at something that wasn’t there, and you found yourself wishing there was something there to poof you from one spot to another. 

     That wish must have shown in your eyes because Undyne’s grin grew wider and Alphys’s hand were pressed up against her cheeks. Undyne’s hair was swaying in an (indoor?) breeze, and everything seemed so much more dramatic. You got the impression she had given speeches like this many times before. Her eye sparkled as she swung the spear out past you - and suddenly felt glued to the spot. 

     You felt like this was going to be a bad time. 

     Undyne said your name, and you were able to spare half a second to observe her girlfriend swooning. “You have been given a rare invitation to come to witness musical greatness onstage. A chance no human had before Frisk fell into the Underground - and no other had before that night!” 

     Your eyes went wide. What was she getting at?

     “You witnessed GREATNESS!” Undyne flexed, “AND YOU MADE _PUNS_ ABOUT IT.”

     Alphys took this moment to jump up on the table, wiggling under Undyne’s brandished hand to strike a slightly-less confident pose with one talon pointing at your face.

     “Y-Yeah! And you know who else makes puns about everything?” She grinned.

     You didn’t answer right away - which was too long for Undyne. She growled and you squeaked again as you lifted your hands in surrender, “Um! I’m gonna go with Sans?”

     “SANS!” They both shouted, lifting their arms in victory. Undyne scooped up Alphys and pressed a few kisses to her giggling snout. You felt the weight in your chest lift and took a deep breath. Undyne was… Undyne was intense, no doubt about it. 

     There was a loud SLAM as Undyne flopped down on the tabletop before you, crossed legged and examining the pointy end of her spear. You jumped - but thankfully you didn’t squeak this time.  

     “Listen kid. Sans doesn’t like humans. It took him years to trust Frisk, so why did it take so much less time for him to trust you?” She pointed the spear at you again, “I don’t know, and I’m not gonna ask him. He wouldn’t answer me anyway.” 

     You swallowed, “If this is because I went backstage with him at the show, I’m super sorry and I won’t do it again.”

     Undyne blinked at you. Then she threw her head back and laughed. 

     You were very confused. 

     “FUHUHUHU, KID, I’M NOT THREATENING YOU!” She gasped, Alphys shook her head in the background, “I’m giving you a Best Friend Speech!”

     You were still confused. 

     Alphys stepped forward, gently patting your shoulder, “You looked so s-scared! Undyne wouldn’t hurt you.” 

     “Yeah! Listen, seriously. Al likes you, that’s… well, you gotta EARN your place as my friend! But Alphys sees you as a friend, and that’s enough for me. Now, Papyrus, he’s my _BESTEST_ friend. Ever. Do you know how sad he would be if something happened to his brother?” 

     You shook your head. 

     “Very.” Undyne growled, “And as his best friend, it’s my job to make sure he’s not sad. You following so far?”

     You nodded. 

     Undyne smiled, “Great! Then we’re on the same page. You can repay Alphys back by not hurting Sans, okay? You go to her if you’ve got questions! Got it?” 

     You were so stunned you could only nod. 

     Undyne laughed again and leaped up to her feet, one hand on her hip and the one with her spear held high in the sky, “Good! Now that _that’s_ out of the way, we all know who’s the best friend here! Me! Undyne the Undying, taking friendship to the next level, plus ultra!” 

     You blinked, “Oh! That’s what the outfit you’re wearing is from! My Hero!” 

     Undyne huffed, sliding back into her seat, “What’s it to you, punk?” 

     “It’s been bugging me all night, I’ve been trying to figure out what it reminded me of.” You shrugged, “Don’t worry, I hear you loud and clear about the boys. Trust me, hurting them in any way is the furthest thing from my mind.” 

     Alphys jumped up, “Y-You watch BNHA?!” You can tell she’s trying really hard to hold back her excitement. 

     You make a so-so motion with your hand, “Kinda? I have a friend who’s really into it. I’ve barely started the first season.” 

     Alphys gasped, “That m-means we have to have you over for anime night! It’s so much fun we justchillandwatchanimeandchataboutitandtherearesnacksandOHmaybeIcanintroduceyoutomyfavoriteanimeofalltimeand---” 

     “Welp, that’s our cue to go.” Undyne shook her head with a fond smile on her face. She picked up Alphys under one arm, throwing a couple of bills on the table to help pay for the meal, “If you go right into contacts on there, you should be able to just import from your old phone. Saves you the time of punching everything all over again.”

     She moves to leave, Alpyhs still rambling on about anime while tucked under one arm, but you stand and place a gentle hand on Undyne’s shoulder. 

     “Hey, seriously. I won’t hurt them. I don’t even know if I want to actually date Sans yet, I think he’s cool and I definitely want him to be my friend. Papyrus, well, he’s already in the Girl Group - which meets for coffee on Wednesdays at noon, if you and Alphys want in - so I can guarantee we won’t hurt him. Especially with Fuku around,” You tack on with a laugh. Undyne relaxes the smallest amount, but you’re not finished yet, “You’re an amazing friend for looking out for them, Undyne. I’ll see you around?” 

     You look particularly hopeful, with one arm offered in a handshake and a tentative smile on your face. Undyne scared you, that was a fact. But she meant a lot to your new friends, and that meant you wanted to try and be her friend. If she was willing. 

     Her yellow eye narrowed and focused somewhere just above your sternum - or maybe just behind it? - for a moment. It lingered just long enough to make you uneasy, but she seemed satisfied by whatever she saw there. She heaved another sigh and shook your hand. 

     “I’ll have Alphys text you in a bit about anime night,” She grinned, and squeezed your hand, “See you around, punk.” 

     She let go and you made a point to smile and wave until the door closed behind them. Then you shook out your hand, wincing at how tightly Undyne had gripped it. Yeah, the two of them were a pair and a half, but they worked really well together. They made you miss your mom - you would have to call her tonight. 

     Your new phone buzzed just as you got back to your apartment, but with no numbers programmed in yet, there was no easy way to tell who had messaged you. Thankfully, with a message that short and sweet, there was no one else it could be. 

 **[unknown number, 18:13]** **  
****knock knock**

 **[you, 18:13]** **  
****who’s there?**

 **[unknown number, 18:13]** **  
****joe**

 **[you, 18:14]** **  
****….Sans I swear to gods**

**I’m not falling for that!**

**[you, 18:16]** **  
****Fiiiiiiiiiiiine. Joe who?**

 **[Mr. Funny Bones, 18:16]** **  
****joe mama**

 **[you, 18:16]** **  
****har har my sides hurt from laughing so hard.**

 **[Mr. Funny Bones, 18:17]** **  
****i have more if u want**

 **[you, 18:17]** **  
****Maybe in a bit? I’ve got to finish setting up my new monster** **  
****phone first! Alphys made me one!**

 **[Mr. Funny Bones, 18:17]** **  
****al made u a fone? cool. got all ur contacts in yet?**

 **[you, 18:18]** **  
****Not yet! I’ve only had it for a few hours.**

**Definitely a big leap from my flip phone.**

**[Mr. Funny Bones, 18:19]** **  
****u were runnin a flip fone???????**

**welcome 2 da future**

**[you, 18:19]** **  
****No kidding! I’ll message when I’m done setting up?**

 **[Mr. Funny Bones, 18:20]** **  
****dont worry abt it. had a quick q 4 u**

 **[you, 18:21]** **  
****I’ll only answer if you use actual English for once.**

 **[Mr. Funny Bones, 18:22]** **  
****nope**

**was wondering if u wanted to grab lunch tmmrw?**

**[you, 18:23]** **  
****Sure! Tomorrow’s a half day at the shop anyway,** **  
****I’m off at 12:30pm. See you around then?**

 **[Mr. Funny Bones, 18:24]** **  
****👍**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my longest chapter, but I hope it satisfies the need for some UT this week! Lemme know about grammar changes and all that. 
> 
> And don't forget to join the discord! >> https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH <<
> 
> EDIT 17/11/19 - Fixed some inconsistencies with the type of phone reader has! Thank you to Okumatte for pointing that out!!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch, a not-so-nice human, and some good times. Plus, a very important poster!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARGYLEXLACE!!!!! I hope this lives up to expectations!!

     The most important part of any music store was the bulletin board - it was an easy place for all the locals to advertise what was going on, what services were being offered, who was looking for what - basically any and everything someone could wonder about Ebbot Town was posted on your board. 

     That also meant it got quite crowded and had to be checked periodically to ensure the various flyers and posters were up to date. Which is what you were currently spending your last few minutes of work doing. You scoffed as you tore down a flyer about acupuncture for older pets - not because you thought it was bogus, but because it had been on the board for almost a month now. It was time for something new. You shuffled through the flyers in your hand, settling on a fairly flashy one that would definitely catch some eyes. 

     You snapped a picture, maybe you could get Sans to sign his band up? The fine print at the bottom said something about a big cash prize, and a chance to perform at the Ebbot Auditorium? That place was HUGE. It would be a massive boost to the band’s popularity among humans, and there were so few monster bands! It could be super cool! You sighed, shaking your head and tucking your phone back in your pocket. Who were you kidding, the band hadn’t played in decades until the night you had seen them. Jumping right into a big contest like that would be a lot to ask, especially for someone as shy as Frisk…

     Okay, so you wouldn’t send the picture to Sans. But maybe Undyne’s competitive spirit would win out? At the very least, it promised to be an amazing show, maybe you could get them all to tag along and watch the grand finale with you! You would make a decision later, After all, there was still a couple of weeks until the enrollment deadline. There was plenty of time. 

     The bell above the door jingled, and you called out a welcome over your shoulder as you pinned the last poster in place. You admired your handiwork with your hands on your hips and an accomplished smile. The board was neat - for now. It usually only lasted a day, but you would take whatever time you could get. 

     Someone placed a hand on your shoulder, and you turned to look at them. Dad smiled back at you, worn hand warm even through your clothes. You returned the smile, slipping into a one-armed hug with him. 

     “I feel accomplished after making this look nice.” You hummed and rested your head on his shoulder. 

     He just nodded, squeezing you once before releasing, “It looks good. If only it would stay that neat for more than a day.” 

     Your shoulders slumped in an exaggerated display of annoyance, head lolling back for a moment before you righted yourself to look at him with a teasing grin, “I dunno, Dad. I thought I didn’t do too _tear-able_ of a job.” You reached to tear a little strip off your own flyer, waving it in his face with a grin. 

      He was far too used to your antics, only dignifying that pun with a roll of his eyes, “I’ll be in the backroom for a little longer after close today, working on a personal project. Lock me in after that last customer is taken care of, alright?” 

      You nodded and held up one hand, a silent request for a high five that he granted with a smile before retreating to his little workshop in the back. Right, there had been a customer that walked in while you were working on the board. Better see what help they needed. 

     You turned to scan the store, combing a hand through your hair to get it out of your face. 

     Sans is leaning on the counter, looking over different tuners on display. You smiled to yourself and moseyed on over behind the counter. 

     “Personally, the Snark tuners are the best. Easy to clip to the bridge of a viola or the head of a bass. Though you do seem like the kind of guy who has perfect pitch…” You said. 

     Sans looked up at you from the two tuners in his hands, signature grin in place, “yeah, well, _tuner_ or later i’ll lose my touch. better to be prepared, right?”

     You grinned, “Fair enough. No…” You pursed your lips for a moment, thinking, “No delusions of _band_ eur about that?” 

     Sans snorted at that one, closing his eyes as a laugh shook his shoulders, “and i thought i was the king of terrible puns.”

      “Just you wait, bone boy, I’m coming for your crown.” You winked at him, then glanced at the clock. 12:28, just a few more minutes before you could close. There was always that one person who walked in right before you could lock up--

     -- Right on cue, the bell jingled again, signaling the arrival of a mother and her son. She was smartly dressed in a brown suit with a green and yellow shirt beneath it, brown hair cut to just above her shoulders and far too much blush on. The boy looked nothing like her, you figured he must take after his father. He wore a yellow sweater with thin stripes of green - mostly on the sleeves, the collar of a white shirt was poking up around the collar and he wore jeans. They were well dressed. You smiled at them, then gave Sans a look that clearly said to hang tight for a moment. He nodded, waving you off to do your job. 

     “Hey! Welcome to Harmony’s, is there anything I can help you with?” You stood up straight. 

     “Yes, actually, we’re looking for-” The mother began, then saw Sans and went white as a ghost. She pulled her son tight to her, “What is _that?_ ”

     You blinked, “Uh, sorry. Could you be more specific?”

     She pointed at the counter. It took you a moment to realize that she was talking about Sans and not a piece of equipment. “He’s another customer?”

     The mother stilled, staring at Sans before she relaxed the smallest amount, “Of course. I’m so very sorry. It’s terribly rude to point and stare, isn’t it, Florent?” The smile on her face was a little too perfect, red lipstick shining. Her son glared up at her but nodded. 

     “Yes, _mother_.” 

     Sans stiffened. His eye sockets went wide as the two continued on, then closed. He looked so incredibly tired.

      The mother bared her teeth at you in something that could barely be called a grin, “Of course. You’ll have to excuse us. I won’t be giving any business to someone who serves the monster equivalent of a smiling trash bag. We’ll be going now.” 

     She took a few steps to the door, expecting her son to follow. But he didn’t, not right away, at least. The boy looked at Sans, head tilted to one side. He didn’t seem to have his mother’s… _disliking_ of your friend. 

     “Florent.” The mother said. he didn’t move, just continued to stare. Sans turned, lazily blinking his right eye. He lifted a hand in a silent wave, and you could have sworn his open left eye flashed yellow-cyan-yellow-cyan a few times before going back to the white you were used to. He was staring at the boy’s chest. 

      “Florent!” The mother said, anger clear in her tone this time. The boy jumped and ran to her side. She looked back at you, teeth seeming far too sharp for a human, “I’m sure I’ll see you sooner than I would like. Good day.” 

      The bell above the door jingled on their way out. You stood there, more than a little shellshocked at such a blatant display of rudeness, and definitely a little confused. It must have been a trick of the light, but you could have sworn that her eyes looked more red than brown as she left the shop. 

     Just a trick of the light. Right? 

     You shook your head and stepped forward, flipping the sign to closed and locking the door before you turned back to Sans, “Wow. I’m… Uh, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think people were still that…” 

     “hostile? rude? grade-a assholes?” He shrugged, “don’t worry about it. it happens - not as much here in ebbot, but it does happen.”

     You frowned, “That sucks. I’m really sorry about it, Sans.” 

     He shrugged again, “don’t be.” 

     Sans seemed content to leave it at that, he leaned back against the counter with his eyes closed and hands shoved in the pockets of that signature hoodie. You took it to mean that he was ready to scoot whenever you were, so you made quick work of those last minute duties. You knocked on the door to your Dad’s workshop before you opened it, peeking inside. He was hard at work at shaping something in the back wood bench, and had a lot of his more vibrant color stains out. Huh, maybe he was finally working on those electric violins he had been wanting to try. 

     “Hey Dad!” You called over the noise, waiting to the hum of the bandsaw to die down before you spoke again, “I’m headed out, I’ll lock you in and shut off the main lights, okay?” 

     “Sounds good,” he replied with a nod, “Let me know when you get home, okay? It feels unsafe today.” 

     You nodded with a thumbs up, “Will do, love you!” 

     He smiled as you closed the door. Which meant all you had left to do was grab your coat and head out to meet Sans. Who hadn’t moved from where he rested against the counter. Actually, was he snoring? You snickered and rolled your eyes, then had a wonderful idea. Carefully, and quietly, you removed the bell above the door and set it on the counter. Then you shut off the lights and snuck out the door, locking it behind you. Of course, you would stay until he woke up, but it’d be funny to see how he reacted when he realized he was locked in. You turned to hide just out of sight of the big shop windows, giggling to yourself, when you ran into someone very solid. 

     “so what’s for lunch, kid?”

     You blinked.

     Sans was standing in front of you, wide awake and acting like nothing was wrong. If it wasn’t for that glint in his eye, you would have thought he just beat you out of the shop when you weren’t looking. 

     “How do you do that?” You placed your hands on his shoulders and made a big show of checking him out, even tugging his hands out of his pockets and checking his arms for tricks, “How? I know you were snoozing on the counter, I know I didn’t make a single sound exiting the store, how did you get out here before me?” 

     Sans watched you check him over with an amused look on his face, little patches of blue blossoming on his cheeks, “i took a shortcut.” 

     You glared at him before walking a circle around him, “That explains literally nothing, you _bonehead_. Tell me how you did it!” 

     “shortcut.” 

     You rolled your eyes and poked him in the forehead, “Sans. Come on, just because I do music and not magic doesn’t mean I won’t understand. How? Besides the obvious magic answer.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest. It was clear you wouldn’t be moving until you got your answer. Sans sighed, but his eye lights were shining when he looked at you. He stepped back from you making sure there was space between the two of you before he winked and --

     -- That bastard! He had blipped behind you! You spun around, pointing at him with an accusing tone, “Yeah! That! How?” 

     He shrugged, the bottom of his eye sockets crinkling with mirth, “it’s just a short cut kid, don’t know what to tell you.” 

     You lunged at him and _missed_ . He blipped away, again. You whirled and lept again. It quickly became a game of cat and mouse, with a cat that was way too slow and a mouse that was having way too much fun. You were laughing between attempts, and you were pretty sure Sans was too if the crinkle of his eyes was anything to go off of. It was fun, actually. good, old fashioned fun that you hadn’t had in a while. Eventually, you were laughing hard enough it made it hard to move, and instead of making the obvious grasp at Sans, you slipped and felt yourself begin to fall. Resigned to your fate, you had just enough time to think _Welp, this is gonna hurt_ before you just, stopped falling. 

     Sans and his damn teleporting, he had blipped back into existence at just the right time to catch you before you hit the floor. You opened your eyes and found his face much closer to yours than you would have anticipated. His eye lights still shimmered with amusement at your little game, but the bones of his face were laced with concern. It was a little hard to breathe in close proximity. The moment seemed to stretch on for hours before Sans was finally the one to break the silence. 

     His eye sockets crinkled just a bit more, “heh. careful bud. wouldn’t want people to think you were _falling_ for me.” 

     And then, because he’s a complete jerk, Sans winked. 

     You squeaked and flailed in such a way that, suddenly, you were both falling. Sans’s eyes went wide right before you both landed on the ground, cushioned by your coats. You both just stared at each other as you valiantly tried to ignore the heat creeping up the back of your neck. Sans blinked once above you before he closed his eyes and flopped onto his back beside you. Your arm was pinned under him, but you were just trying not to look at him. You felt his body begin to shake with where your arm was pinned, then you heard that dry, wheezy laugh that pulled a giggle from yourself. 

     Two idiots, lying on the ground next to each other, laughing far too hard. 

     Man, the people across the street were probably giving you weird looks. 

     Wasn’t the newspaper Dahria worked for right across the street? 

     That thought sobered you up - at least enough to grab some control over your giggles. You were still breathing a little hard, laughter poking out here and there as you pulled your arm out from under the skeleton and sat up. You groaned as you got to your feet, offering Sans a hand. He took it and you hauled him up. 

      “Anyway,” you said with a stretch, “You’ll have to explain that to me sooner or later. But for now, I’m thinking about some food. I could go for a burger…” 

     Sans grinned at you, “i’ve got a place in mind. and i know a shortcut. interested?”

     You side-eyed him, “Are you paying this time?” 

     His grin grew even wider, “we can put it on my tab.” 

     Like that made things any better. Knowing Sans, his tab was already way higher than it should legally be allowed to be. It was an inevitable fate - you didn’t want to short-change anyone, and Sans was far too content to just let sleeping dogs lie. Still, it was better than going hungry. 

     “Fine,” You crossed your arms, “But once we end up wherever you’re planning on taking me I am going to get an explanation about how you just poof places.” 

     Sans didn’t answer, but he did wink and offer you an un-mittened skeletal hand. To your credit, you only hesitated for a fraction of a second before you took it, and you didn’t squeak when he tugged you in close and grabbed your other hand. This time you caught the blue coloring creep onto his cheekbones. 

     It was a good color on him. 

     “i gotta have you close if we shortcut. dont want to lose you in the void.”

     You squeezed his hands a little tighter, “You won’t. I trust you.” 

     Sans’s head looked like a blueberry. You had a very strange feeling in your gut. He pulled you into a hug - a move you had a sneaking suspicion was only so he could hide the blush on his face. He whispered a warning to hold tight, and you felt the universe drop from under you again. You tried not to blink and miss it, you really did, but the sudden flash of every color at once was too much and you couldn’t help but close your eyes against all the stimulation. It made you realize just how tightly Sans was holding you to him. You were aware of his skeletal hands holding tight to your waist, and the bones of his ribcage seemed accentuated in this weird world - burning extra hot against your own torso. Or maybe that was just your nerves at being so close to him. Really, who could tell? 

     Just like that, the assault of sound and light and color vanished, replaced by a gentle breeze and the comforting relative blackness of your eyelids. Your legs were a little wobbly, so you held tighter and made sure to just breathe for a moment. 

     You held tighter. 

     To Sans. 

     Heh. 

     Sans cleared his throat after a minute, “kid, you gotta let go. cant treat ya to the best burg in your life if youre hanging on for dear life here.” 

     Right on cue, your stomach growled and you groaned. He did have a point. You pulled back, letting your hands linger on his shoulders as you did a quick inventory of your physical self. Everything seemed in order, so you let go of him with a pleased little nod. His hands hovered at your waist, the ridges of his brow bones raised in concern before you waved him off. You were hungry, and you weren’t going to let something as silly as wobbly legs keep you from food. 

     “Best burg in my life, huh? That’s a pretty tall order…” You smiled at him, “You had better deliver.” 

     Sans shoved his hands back in his pockets with a nod to follow him. Apparently, he had decided that teleporting right into the restaurant was a bad decision, so a sketchy alley-way was the way to go. It did make for a significantly less awkward entrance…

     He led the two of you to the mouth of the alley. You stopped as you recognized the warm exterior and neon lighting above the main entrance. 

     “Grillby’s, huh?” You grinned, “Didn’t realize they were open for lunch.” 

     Sans nodded, “yeah. grillbz is pretty great. this was the best place to go for food underground, you can bet as soon as monsters got the rights to own businesses his was the first to go up.”

     You hummed, “I kinda remember that? There was a big hullabaloo in town when that happened, made getting home quite interesting.” 

     In fact, you were pretty sure that was the weekend you had met Fuku - but that was a story for another day. For now, you were content to follow Sans as he held the door open (with magic!!!) for you. Inside the front half of Grillby’s was just as you remembered it, warm and welcoming, in earthy tones with some jazz coming quietly from the jukebox in the corner. Grillby was at the bar this time, instead of Fuku. He was still dressed in a nice button-down top, with that signature black bowtie and those gold-rimmed glasses that were so helpful to know where to look. 

     “heya grillbz.” Sans said as soon as he walked in. The fire elemental looked up and nodded in greeting, the flames on top of his head flickering a little brighter. 

      _Good Afternoon, Sans. I was wondering if we were going to see you today._

     You forgot just how nice his voice sounded in your head. You grinned and waved, sliding into the seat next to Sans at the bar. The two of them chatted while you looked over the menu. It was fairly simple, mostly pub food: burgers, sandwiches, some wings, and a wide variety of french fries that you were definitely curious about. Curly fries, sweet potato fries, onion fries, radish fried, carrot fries, seasoned fried, cheesy fries, and ooh! There was poutine on the menu too! That was your dad’s favorite, you’d have to treat him some time. 

     Grillby said your name, soft as candlelight. It’s a good sound. When you look over at the pair you find that Sans is looking at you, the edges of his eye lights are a little fuzzy and there’s a squeeze bottle of ketchup cradled in one hand. Ew. You scrunch your nose at that sight, and all you get in response is a lazy wink. 

      _Any luck deciding on what you would like to eat?_ Grillby crackles with a nod at the menu, _I can also help choose for you if you would rather._

     You shook your head, “That’s alright, I think I’ve got a rough idea. I’d definitely like an order of curly fries, and a burger, if that’s alright.” 

      _Of course_ , The fire elemental nodded. You got the impression he was smiling as he took the menus and walked away.  

     “when did you learn to listen to magic?” Sans squirted ketchup into his open mouth. You made a point not to watch with a shrug. 

     “I’m not really sure. I went to see your show and boom, I could understand fire.” You made an exploding motion with your hands, “Honestly, I haven’t really thought about it since. Just kinda accepted it?” 

     “...huh.” 

     You shrugged. The two of you made idle chatter for a while, you eating respectfully ketchuped fries and a fantastic burger while Sans munched on what was basically ketchup soup with potatoes. It was kind of gross. In fact, he almost succeeded in keeping you from asking the question that’s been on your mind since the night of the show. That explanation had taken a full hour, accompanied by more than your fair share of questions and a seemingly never-ending supply of patience and puns from Sans. You got a crash course in monster magic, a crash course in general physics immediately followed by a slightly-less-than crash course in quantum physics. Your brain was spinning with numbers, equations, and phrases that you would never need again. But it had been so much fun to watch Sans light up as he explained the nitty-gritty details of his own magic, and even in-depth about some other monsters. Grillby had been all too happy to show off his own skills in pyromancy (duh) and mixology as an example of magic so vastly different from Sans’s. There had been little butterflies made of flames fluttering around your table for a full hour, filling your chest - what you now were able to confidently identify as your Soul - with warmth and comfort. You also learned that magic had a smell - Grillby smelled like campfires and cinnamon, Sans smelled like old books and peppermint. Apparently, each monster had its own magical signature that resonated as a certain pitch to each other, but humans couldn’t hear, only smell the differences. The whole meal made you really appreciate the work Alphys was doing to help humanity re-learn everything about their souls - even if the majority of humans didn’t really buy into it.  All in all, it was a good lunch date. 

     Was it a lunch date? 

     Did you _want_ it to be a lunch date? 

     Sans was a seriously sweet guy. He might give off vibes that screamed lazy slack-off, but he was doing so much more than you thought anyone realized. There were a couple of times you could have sworn you saw dirty dishes left behind vanish in a flash of blue. He was much more expressive than you originally thought - and almost none of it was in the shape of his smile. When you told a particularly good joke, his eyes scrunched up. If he was comfortable Sans seemed to be winking at the world. When he was lost in thought his little eye lights seemed to grow fuzzy at the edges and sharpened to bright little specks when he pulled himself back into the present. 

     Most importantly, he was _fun_. 

     Not just blab-about-himself-and-laugh-at-his-foolishness fun, but genuine, good-hearted giggles the entire time you two hung out. 

     Okay, so maybe you did want it to be a date.

     Sans said your name and you stumbled over your own feet - you had been lost in your thoughts and stopped paying attention to where the pair of you were walking. “you okay there bud? lookin a little lost in the clouds there.” 

     You shook your head, “Nope. I’m good. Just thinking.” 

“whatcha thinking about?” 

      _About you_ , “Not a whole lot. It’s been a better day than anticipated, that’s all.”

     The corners of his eyes scrunched up with his smile, “glad to hear it. you sounded like you needed a day off.” 

     “Eh. Wednesdays are usually pretty okay. They’re half days, so I always go get lunch with…” Your eyes widened and you froze mid-step. Wednesdays were coffee days. With your girlfriends. Crap. 

     You muttered a curse and reached into your pocket for your phone, cursing again when you saw several messages from Dahria and Papyrus, but what really made your stomach drop was one multimedia message from Fuku. You swallowed before opening it and groaned when you saw the images she had attached. The first was of you and Sans before heading to Grillby’s, when you had both fallen and Sans had landed on top of you. Your own face is pretty red, and the picture lets you see that he is pretty blue too - his eye lights are practically non-existent. The second image is of you and him just after arriving at Grillby’s - where you’re hanging onto him for dear life and he’s looking entirely too pleased with himself. 

 **[Fuku Fire, 12:05]** ****  
**{Image attached}** ****  
**So? Ditching us for the skeleton you definitely** **  
****-dont- have a crush on, huh?**

 **[Fuku Fire, 12:20]** ****  
**{Image attached}** **  
****C U T E**

You’re pretty sure your face is redder than it’s ever been at this moment. And it just gets redder when Sans asks if everything is okay. You manage a shaky nod and show him the messages from Dahria berating you for ditching them on your outstanding afternoon outing. Sans’s eye sockets widen fractionally and he groans as he pulls out his own phone and notices- 

     “one hundred and seven messages and three missed calls from papyrus.” He says with a wince, but there’s fondness in his voice, “whoops.”

     You gave a shaky laugh, running a hand through your hair in an effort to calm yourself down, “Yeah, guess we both ditched our usual lunch engagements, huh?” 

     The grin on his face turned sheepish as he rubbed at his cheek, “guess so.” 

     You sighed, looking off in the direction of your apartment, “Well, I guess I had better head home and call Fuku and Dahria. They’ll kill me if I don’t talk to them tonight. I’ll see you later, Sans!” You say with a wave. You’re just about to start speed-walking away when you feel his hand touch your arm. 

     “hang on,” He says, eye lights glittering with concern, “its getting dark out, lemme walk you home.”

     “It’s okay, really. There’s not a whole lot to worry about. It’s Ebbot.” 

     Sans says your name again in a tone that clearly says there will be no more arguing, “im walking you home. for me, k?”

     You fidgit where you stand for a moment, but the sun is setting, and it’s not like it’s too too far back to your place. You hesitate, then nod.Relief makes his eye lights grow, and you’re definitely glad for the company home. Sans tells you a story of when Frisk and Undyne came over to cook with Papyrus, and had nearly burned the house down with how intense their cooking was. Sans is a seriously good storyteller - his voice is low and melodic all on it’s own, it sends your stomach fluttering at the idea of him maybe singing around you. 

     Maybe one day. 

     “This is my stop,” You say through the last whispers of laughter, “I’m good from here, just a few flights of stairs.” He insists on walking you up, but complains about it with every step he takes. He really owns the whole lazy bones persona. You offer to take the last few fearful steps on your own, but despite all his complaining he seems determined to walk you all the way to your door. It’s when you finally get there that you insist on saying goodbye for real. 

     “Thanks for walking me home,” You grin as the pair of you slow to a stop outside your apartment door, “I had a seriously great time today.” 

    “even if it meant ditching your friends?” He questioned with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

     You just rolled your own with a smile, “I’ll let you know. Fuku can get pretty _fired up_ about missing plans. We’ll see how much trouble I’m in later.” 

     Sans chuckled, “eesh. good luck kid, hope you don’t get too _burned_.” 

     You laughed, unlocking your door and turning to him, “One last question before you go, why walk me all the way up if you’re that against taking the stairs?”

     It was Sans’s turn to go a little blue in the cheeks. He scratched at the back of his skull, not quite willing to meet your eyes, “heheheh, well, uh. so that next time i don’t have to.”

     It’s such a sweet thought, but he doesn’t give you time to thank him before he’s poofed out of existence right before your eyes. You shake your head, finally opening your door and slinking inside your apartment with a sigh. You have enough time to flop back onto your couch, glance at the photos Fuku had sent you and grin like an idiot before your phone starts buzzing. It was Fuku trying to snag you for a video call. Right on time. 

     You were tempted to send her to voicemail, just this once. But you knew if you did you would never hear the end of it. Better to bite the bullet now than to wait and see just how hot her temper could burn. 

     Heh. Fire puns. 

     You answered, still grinning like an idiot. Dahria looked mildly peeved, but her excitement was definitely winning, and Fuku was looking smugger than the cat who got the cream. 

     Fuku spoke first, the flames that made up her hair flickering with anticipation, “I hope you have a good reason for skipping out on us today.” 

     You shrugged, intending to play coy for a little bit longer. Dahria was having none of that, she grinned wide and pushed Fuku just out of frame - pulling their camera so close all you could see was her face and the excitement there. 

     “Tell. Us. Everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what your thoughts are! I'm always happy to chat! You can find me in the discord server here >> https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH <<
> 
> Also - anybody out there like designing posters? Make up a Band poster and send it to me! It just might make it into the story itself! :)
> 
> edit: You can also find me on tumblr? I'm not super active anymore, but I do post chapter updates there! marsonstage.tumblr.com


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night with the gang, poster reveal to the squad, and a road bump.

     It’s a full three days before you remember the poster on your shop wall - and, in the end, it’s not even you who mentions it to your new group of friends. Papyrus hadn’t been apart of your interrogation the night you skipped coffee to hang out with Sans, you were surprised it had taken him as many days as it had for him to bang open the door to your shop and demand an explanation. You were a little worried that he would be really upset with you, instead, Papyrus was overjoyed. 

     “WOWIE! YOU ACTUALLY GOT MY BROTHER TO GO ON A DATE?” 

     You shrugged and continued restocking the sillier little instruments, mostly nose-flutes and kazoos today, “It wasn’t really a date. We hung out for a few hours, had some food. I learned  _ way _ too much about physics. It was a fun time though!” 

     Papyrus looked at you with his hands on his hips, “HUMAN, HE PAID FOR YOUR MEAL AND WALKED YOU TO YOUR DOOR.”

     “He didn’t pay, he put it on his tab,” You pointed at him, “The one he never pays. That’s different.” 

     Yep. You were definitely in denial about the whole date thing. The more you thought about it, the more you wished you had asked him if it was one. Maybe it was Fuku’s words of encouragement from last night, or perhaps Papyrus’s persistence in this moment, but you were beginning to think you actually had a chance with Sans! Maybe. Hopefully. If you could get up the guts to actually approach him about it. That was by far the hardest part. Where had all your confident run off to? You had no issue asking him to lunch a few weeks ago. Why were you so caught up in your own head about all this? 

     Papyrus called your name, “THAT IS A TECHNICALITY AND YOU KNOW IT. DID HE SAY WHY HE WANTED TO WALK YOU HOME?” 

     “Well, not exactly --”

     “SANS CANNOT TELEPORT PLACES HE HAS NOT SEEN BEFORE,” Papyrus says this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “HE WALKED UP TWO FLIGHTS OF STAIRS FOR YOU. HE WALKS PLACES IN GENERAL WITH YOU. THOSE ARE NOT THINGS MY BROTHER DOES REGULARLY.” 

     You felt the back of your neck heat up and quickly turned back to the box of nose flutes in front of you. When he put it like that…

     “He’s being a good friend.” You say. You don’t sound so sure, even to your own ears, so you try again, “He’s seriously just being a good friend.” There! That was a little better. 

     Papyrus is not convinced. He throws his hands up in the air with a sigh, mumbling about the idiocy that his friends seemed to have. Thankfully, he seemed distracted enough to leave you alone about the whole thing. For now. In fact, he’s quiet for long enough you stand up and look around for the skeleton in question. He’s hovering by the bulletin board with a poster in his hand. Whispurr is weaving herself between his legs - begging for attention. Papyrus’s eyes are glittering - you can practically see the gears turning in his head when he makes eye contact with you. 

      “BANDS CAN BATTLE? THAT IS TWO OF MY FAVORITE THINGS IN ONE!” 

      You make a so-so gesture with your hand, “Kinda? There’s no actual fighting involved. It’s usually just a few bands that play a couple of songs in one night, see who the crowd likes more, and then they move onto the next round. Sometimes they play on stages that face each other, at the same time. It depends on who’s hosting the battle.” You’ve moved beside him at this point, standing on tip-toes to look at the poster in his hand, “We can totally go check out the first round of this one if you want to. It looks like they start just outside of town and end at the Ebbot Auditorium… We can see the starters and the grand finale!” 

     Papyrus makes a thoughtful sound, “PERHAPS… HUMAN, MAY I KEEP THIS POSTER? I DO NOT WANT TO FORGET!” 

     Who could say no to that face, “Sure thing? I think I can find the flyer online and print it out again…” 

     Papyrus grins as he carefully folds the flyer into fourths and tucks it away in his battle body. He stays with you until close, helping you restock the items that you are too short to reach without a stepstool. Having a seven or eight foot monster friend was kind of handy! Even your dad was impressed as he left for the day, thanking Papyrus for his work and offering a discount if he needed new percussion equipment. Ever the gentleman (gentlemonster?) Papyrus had thanked him, but refused. Something about just being happy to help? He really was the sweetest person you knew. 

     You were buttoning the flannel you had taken to using as your coat in this weather - it was finally starting to get chilly. The leaves on the trees hadn’t quite started to change yet, but there was a cool breeze blowing that said change was coming soon. Papyrus was waiting patiently by the door, crouched down and giving Whispurr some much-needed love while you wrapped up. He had invited you to dinner at his house. Frisk was going to be there, as was Undyne, Alphys, and Sans. He had mentioned the latter with a wiggle of his brow bones, and you had just rolled your eyes. 

     “Alright, I’m ready! Let's get some food.” You grin. Papyrus says his goodbyes to Whispurr, who you give an affectionate scratch under the chin as you leave and lock the door behind you.

     “EXCELLENT! HUMAN, MY CAR IS RIGHT OVER HERE! LET US GO HOME!” Papyrus says with his typical pose - hands on his hips and chin held high. With the red scarf billowing in the breeze behind him he looked like a superhero, “ONWARD!” He shouted, pointing down the street at…

      At a cherry red convertible. A very nice, very expensive and well-maintained convertible that might be a bit chilly in this weather. It feels like your eyebrows climb up into your hairline as you watch him march up to the car and begin resituating the roof. You give a low whistle as you walk up to it, giving the car a once over. 

     “Wow, Papyrus. Sweet ride!” 

     “I KNOW! THANK YOU!” He grins, beaming at you as he climbs into the driver’s seat, “IT WAS THE FIRST THING I BOUGHT WHEN WE REACHED THE SURFACE - THEY ALSO HAD A YELLOW ONE, BUT THIS WAS THE CLOSEST TO MY BED UNDERGROUND!” 

     You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head with a fond smile. Of course, Papyrus had a car bed while he was Underground - but those things were built for children! There’s no way he could fit in that, he had to be more than seven feet tall… “That’s awesome Papyrus. It’s a sweet ride.” 

     “YOU HAVE ALREADY SAID THAT, HUMAN! STILL, I SUPPOSE IT WOULD BE VERY GREAT TO SOMEONE WHO WALKED EVERYWHERE… PERHAPS WE SHOULD TAKE A TRIP SOMEWHERE WHEN IT IS WARMER. THAT WAY YOU CAN FEEL THE WIND IN YOUR HAIR!” 

     You grin and slide into the passenger seat, tucking your bag by your feet and buckling up, “Sounds like a plan, Pap.” 

★★★★★ 

     Papyrus, to his credit, was probably the safest driver you had ever ridden with. He obeyed every single driving law perfectly - you expected a little more fun times and freewheeling from someone with a car like his, but some things never changed. Papyrus was just too… too  _ good _ to drive sloppily. You wished some of your other friends were that well behaved behind the wheel. It gave you a chance to just listen and watch the world go by through the window. Papyrus really enjoyed tango music, it seemed. He knew all the words to several songs that came on the radio and sang along in perfectly fluent Spanish - if a little loudly for the confined space of the car. It was quite impressive. 

     He drove you to a little neighborhood not too far from Ebbot Town proper - a neat little place with picket fences and neat lawns - and, of course, lots of monsters. Even eight years after breaching the surface, monsters preferred living near each other rather than far apart. Sure, there were a few massive ones in oceans that preferred to be alone, and a few other monsters that had moved out into the world, but the vast majority seemed happy in this little suburb right outside of Ebbot. Fuku lived down this way, at the edge of the little community the monsters had set up here. There were a few human households, with their children playing in the yard alongside moldsmals and slimes, but it was mostly monsters. It made for a very eccentric neighborhood - especially considering all the different habitats you drove by. 

     “Papyrus?” You interrupted his singing while you stared at a brown, dome-shaped house through your window, “Is... Is that a volcano?”

     “YES! SEVERAL VULCANS LIVE THERE. THEY PREFER THE WARMTH,” He must have glanced at you and seen the look of awe and mild concern on your face, “FEAR NOT! IT IS MAGICALLY CONTAINED WITHIN THE BOUNDARIES OF THEIR PROPERTY. SEVERAL OTHER MONSTER FAMILIES ALSO  HAVE THEIR HOMES WITHIN CONTAINED HABITATS.”

     You exhaled in awe as you passed the volcano, settling back in your seat to look forward again, “That is so cool.” 

     Papyrus agrees with you wholeheartedly. 

     You know which house is his the moment it comes into view at the end of the street. It’s a quaint little two-story, with a garage that has what looks like an apartment above it and a whole lot of yard. There’s a tarp covering what looks like a motorcycle out front, plus a little black car and a purple minivan. There are a few inches of snow across the yard, highlighting the roof and the window trim, and there are rainbow lights twinkling all along the fence and roof. there’s n doubt in your mind who this house belongs to. It looks comfortable, and functional - even if it was still a little early in the year for snow. 

     “I didn’t bring any mittens to make snowmen with…” You mutter to yourself as Papyrus pulls into the driveway. 

     “THAT IS OKAY! YOU CAN BORROW SOME OF MINE!” Papyrus offers, grin bright as ever, “WELCOME TO MY HUMBLE ABODE!” 

     He races around the car to open the door for you, and races ahead to open the front door to his house with a flourish. You laugh and give him a rough approximation of a curtsy in return, shedding the light jacket you had on and hanging it by the door. It gave you a moment to admire the inside - even if the carpet was a little bit much. The walls were a dark red, but they somehow matched the blue and purple striped carpet perfectly. There was a seriously comfy looking couch facing a television, which in turn had a stack of DVDs to its left, and several different game systems underneath it. And… was that a sock? With a tower of sticky notes next to it? You can see the top of Sans’ head resting on one of the armrests, he looks like he’s cramming in a last-minute nap before everyone arrives. 

     “Sweet place,” You say with a grin as you walk forward to lean on the back of the couch. Sans half-opens one eye, grunting a greeting before closing it again. “But, uh, who’s sock is that?” 

     Both of San’s eye sockets fly open - his eye lights shrinking and that token smile of his falling just slightly. Oh, and his cheeks are bright blue. 

     You blink, and he’s no longer on the couch. The sock has also magically vanished. 

     Interesting.

     You flop onto the couch with a grin, enjoying the moment to stretch in a pre-warmed space. Huh. That meant Sans gave off heat, so there would be no need to squish extra layers in there - not that you had been imagining stuffing a pillow in the empty space between his ribcage and pelvis for maximum snuggle comfort. Definitely not. 

     Papyrus calls your name, prompting you to look at him over the arm of the couch. He seemed much taller from this angle. “DID… DID YOU MANAGE TO GET SANS TO PICK UP HIS, EM, HIS SOCK?” He hangs onto that last word a little longer than necessary, and though it’s hard to tell when you’re hanging off the side of the couch, it looks like his cheekbones have taken on an orange color. You shrug as best you can, trying not to look proud. 

     “What, like it’s hard? He cleans up if you ask him to.” 

     Papyrus flat-out gawks at you at that, blinking several times before snapping his mouth shut with a little click. “SANS ACTUALLY CLEANS FOR YOU?” 

     You laugh, “I wouldn’t go that far. More like he picks up Whispurr’s messes, helps me stock the things I can’t reach, all usually from leaning on the counter.” You give an approximation of a shrug from where you laid, “Nothing too fancy.” 

     “NOTHING TOO FANCY?” Papyrus shakes his head at you, “HUMAN, YOU ARE MISSING THE BIGGER PICTURE HERE! SANS--” 

     Papyrus never got to finish his sentence. There was a loud shout from outside the house, you had just enough time to sit up with wide eyes before the front door was kicked open with a BANG! Undyne stood in the doorway, red hair up in a hair tie with Alphys tucked under one arm. Undyne had a fierce grin on her face, and Alphys was cupping her cheeks with both hands, looking head over heels in love with the woman carrying her. It was a pretty sweet sight. 

     “ALRIGHT! WHERE’S THE POPCORN?” Undyne yelled, “THERE’S A WHOLE NEW SEASON OF MY FAVORITE SHOW AND I WANNA WATCH IT WITH MY FAVORITE MONSTERS ON THE PLANET!” 

     “undyne. dude. we talked about kicking down the door.” Sans had reappeared on the balcony above the living room, leaning lazily on the railing. You couldn’t quite tell from this distance, but it looked like he was still a little blue in the cheekbones. You blinked and found him leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, “if you break the door, youre replacing it with a new one.” 

    “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Undyne waved him off, “I know my own strength, I’m not going to literally kick down your door.” 

     The rest of the evening pretty much went off without a hitch - Undyne actually seemed to open up to you. It seemed the way to her heart was anime, and since you were one of three people present who had actually read the manga for  _ My Hero Academia _ , she latched on pretty quickly. Papyrus ended up on the floor with Frisk half sprawled in his lap. Undyne and Alphys pulled a beanbag from one of their inventories, which left you and Sans on the couch. Maybe you strained your voice shouting the intro lyrics as you recapped the end of season three, but it was worth it for the stars in Alphys’s eye when she realized you were as into this one as she was.    
  
“Ohmygodyoulikethisshowtoothat’ssoeexcitingI’vebeenlookingformorepeopletotalkabouthtisshowwithandIcan’tbelieveittoookmethislongtofindsomeonedopeopleherenotusuallytalkaboutwhatanimeshowstheywatchthat’sinsanehowdoyoumakenewfriends-”

     She was very excited. 

     And she definitely was your go-to expert on monster culture. Who better to send super-sneaky messages to during the intros and outros? 

**[you, 20:20]** **  
** **Pap made a big deal about Sans cleaning when** **  
** **I asked earlier… Is he that messy?**

**[Nerd Queen Alphys, 20:20]** **  
** **Yes! He’s a SLOB.**

**WAIT**

**DID HE MOVE THE SOCK FOR YOU?**

**:OOOOOOOO**

**[you, 20:20]** **  
** **Kinda? I asked who’s it was and he did the** **  
** **poof thing.**

**[Nerd Queen Alphys, 20:20]** **  
** **!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!** **  
** **!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

     She shot you a look, began typing furiously on her phone, then shook her head and rewrote her message. 

**[Nerd Queen Alphys, 20:21]** **  
** **Kitchen, next episode break!!! I’ll explain then!**

     “HUMAN, YOUR PHONE KEEPS BUZZING?! Papyrus leaned over, “WHO ARE YOU TEXTING?” 

     You gave him an apologetic smile, glancing at Alphys (who hurriedly put her own phone away) as you made a point to put your phone on proper silent, “I had to check in on something, sorry. Shouldn't' buzz anymore!” 

     He nodded, evidently pleased with that answer, before giving his full attention back to the movie screen. Frisk kept their gaze on you, golden eyes holding far too much knowledge and mirth for your tastes. You quirked a brow at them in a silent question, but the only response you got was a waggle of their own eyebrows before they turned back to the TV. 

     It was an episode or two before you remembered you were supposed to chat with Alphys in the kitchen. You stood and stretched, excusing yourself to snag a glass of water. Sans moved to get up, but your accomplice shot to her feet. 

     “I’ll show you where everything is!” She grinned and scurried over. 

     Undyne watched her go with a fond look, “Sweetheart, will you bring me back a glass too?”

     “i’ll take some milk.” Sans chimed in, resting his chin on one boney hand, “pretty please.” 

     You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I guess, only because you asked so nicely.” It seemed right to end the statement with a wink, but the dim lighting made it hard to tell if Sans blushed or not. Darn. Alphys all but dragged you into the kitchen, and immediately set about gathering beverages for everyone as the two of you spoke. 

     “So! Sans moved his sock for you?” Alphys asked, standing on tip-toes to reach a glass. You grabbed it for her - seeing as you had a good few inches on her height. 

     “I mean, yeah?” You said, passing her the glasses, “sure, he’s not the cleanest guy, but he picks up his messes and a few of the ones my kitty makes in the shop. And I guess he moved the sock when I made a comment but-” 

     Alphys squeaked and fumbled a glass, almost dropping it, “He moved the sock for you! That’s great! I was kinda used to it living there but it was a little awkward. That’s so exciting! I wonder if I can add this to my mang- er. That’s great!” 

     You gave her a funny look and pointed an empty glass in her general direction, “Socks. There’s definitely a cultural difference with the socks. What gives?” 

     Alphys turned an entirely new shade of red, hiding her face in her hands for a moment. “Um. Well. You see. There isn’t really a need for socks or shoes Underground? Or there wasn’t?” 

     “Makes sense.” 

     She nodded, “Yeah. So. Socks are… f-for monsters, anyway, 100% for aesthetics.” She was desperately trying not to look at you - in fact, she was trying to end the conversation there. 

     “Um, Alphys, aesthetics are great and all, but I’m still not getting it,” you shook your head, “What about  _ socks _ is making you so red?”

     She avoided your eyes for a moment longer, then took a deep breath, “S-see, when two monsters love each other very much, they tend to-” 

     “OH.” You cut her off. frantically waving your hands, “Oooookay, I get it. Socks equal monster lingerie.” You felt your own fact heating up, “So, he literally had his sexy-time clothes just out in the open?” 

     Alphys nodded. You exhaled, leaning back on the counter for a moment before you began giggling to yourself. Oh man, that opened the door for all kinds of fun opportunities. Alphys caught on, and you watched as her eyes sparkled and grinned widely. 

     “So, what I’m hearing is some thigh-highs and a pair of shorts…?” 

     Alphys let out a peel of laughter that verged on maniacal-evil-genius laughter, which only served to drive you further into your giggle fit. Before too long, the two of you were clutching your stomachs, laughing while a few glasses of water and one glass of milk sat on the counter, untouched. 

     Sans picked that moment to pop his head in. He looked at you, then Alphys, then back again. You and Al shared a look, then started laughing harder. Sans decided he didn’t want to deal with whatever the two of you had going on, and returned to the living room. 

     “undyne, your girlfriend’s having a giggle fit.” 

      You managed to get enough of a handle on yourself for a moment, long enough to say a few words to your current partner in crime, “Skeleton knee highs!” 

     The giggles didn’t stop for quite a while.  

     It actually took you and Alphys a good twenty minutes to come down from your giggle fit, but at least everyone ended up with their requested drinks in hand. It provided a good stretch break for those involved and gave you a moment to think about how you were going to mention the poster earlier to the group. 

     Turns out, you didn’t need to worry about your approach. Papyrus was all over it. 

     “I HAVE A QUESTION FOR THE GROUP,” He began, sitting up straighter where he was on the floor. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded paper from earlier, “THERE WAS A POSTER ON THE WALL AT THE HUMAN’S SHOP. AT FIRST, IT JUST CAUGHT MY EYE BECAUSE OF THE ARTWORK, BUT UPON READING THE CONTENTS I THOUGHT.. MAYBE WE COULD ALL…” You don’t think you’ve ever seen Papyrus this shy, but that’s the only word for the orange on his cheeks and the sudden silence as he offers the poster to Undyne. She frowns and takes it from his hands. You watch her one yellow eye narrow and skate across the poster, reading all the details. 

     Then her eye goes wide and her mouth splits in a fierce grin as she fist pumps the air, “HELL YEAH WE’RE GONNA DO A BATTLE OF THE BANDS!” She shouts, launching to her feet, “That’s so cool! I didn’t know those existed!” She turns her enthusiasm on you as she passes the flyer to Sans, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?! We could have been training!” 

     You held your hands up in surrender, “I was going to tonight! Paps beat me to it.” 

     Undyne points a finger at you, squinting, “A likely story, how long has the poster been up?” 

     “A whole day.” You grin at her. 

     “Oh.” Undyne deflates for a moment, but quickly finds her enthusiasm again, “Well, better late than never!”

     Sans had passed on the flyer to Frisk, who was being uncharastically silent - even for someone who didn’t really speak. Undyne was standing, excitedly talking about a training regimen with Papyrus, who was vibrating in his seat with excitement. Alphys has started making notes about the least amount of equipment they could take with them, should the band make it past the first round. All of this was happening, but Sans was the one you were watching. He still had that sleepy grin on his face, but it seemed like it was placed there, carefully concealing some mix of emotions. His eyes were half-lidded, and trained on Frisk. You frowned, following his gaze. Frisk… didn’t look like themselves. They were quiet, eyes wide and skin paler than normal as they looked at the poster. 

     “...No.” 

     If you hadn’t been watching them at the exact moment their lips moved, you wouldn’t have known whose voice it was in that moment. It was soft, and a little scratchy with lack of use, but otherwise steady. Frisk wouldn’t look up from the poster clutched in their hands. 

     Everyone froze, stopping whatever they were doing in the middle of it to look at Frisk. Except for Sans, who exhaled and closed his eyes. The grin turned more into a grimace as Frisk continued. 

     “I can’t do this, all those people…” They began, closing their eyes and holding out the poster for someone to take. You stepped forward, gently taking it from their grasp, “Golden Flower Studios is sponsoring the event. I can’t… I can’t do that. Not without Determination.” 

     You furrowed your brows, preparing to ask why ‘determination’ of all things was holding them back but were silenced with a shake of Sans’s head. There was more here, you would have to ask him about it later. Frisk took a deep breath, opening their mouth to speak but deciding against it. You pulled out your monster phone, glancing at the screen as it translated your friend’s sign language for you. 

_ It’s one thing to play for the town at Grillby’s. I know Mettaton, and Shyren and Blooky and basically every monster in that bar. I like monsters. I know that if I’m pouring my Soul into a performance, they’ll appreciate it. Humans…  _ They hesitated, hands making unsure circling motions while they hunted for the right signs to use,  _ Humans don’t get it.  _

__ They turned to Sans,  _ Why did you agree to the gig at Grillby’s? You said you were done for good after your bass broke. _

     Sans opened his left eye, the little pinprick of light darted to you before returning to Frisk, “cause i had my bass back. i wouldn’t have been able to play with something that wasn’t mine.” He shrugged, “and papyrus wanted to play again. i didn’t realize he meant a show until he said it to our friend here.” He nodded in your direction. 

_ Exactly _ , Frisk signed, their face set,  _ You wouldn’t do it until you were whole again. I’m not playing with some guitar that’s barely got any life to it. Maybe if I knew it better, knew how it was feeling. But these surface guitars are dead. They have no life. I miss mine. _ They finished, hugging themselves. Everyone was silent for a moment longer, letting the weight of those words settle down. 

     You… You kind of understood what Frisk meant. For those as in touch with their melodic side as monsters were (and a few humans), it took a long time to find an instrument to vibe with. If it didn’t feel right in your hand, then what was the point? You hummed, nodding. You had your viola that your father made you with your input every step of the way, the only other instrument you had ever felt that connection with was…. 

     Was the last viola he made before the divorce. 

_ Sans _ , Your phone lit up - Frisk was signing again,  _ can you take me home? I think I’m done for the night. _ They stood up, giving everyone a quick hug goodbye. They hesitated when they got to you, glancing at the poster still in your hand. You set it down on the arm of the couch, standing and opening your arms. 

     “I get it.” You said quietly, “If you’re going to really put yourself out there, you need something that’s going to resonate with your soul. Soul.” You corrected yourself, smiling, “Don’t worry.” 

     Frisk hugged you tightly. For a moment you were struck with the image of the eight-year-old who had fallen into the mountain with only a bandaid and a tiny handmade guitar to defend themselves but filled to the brim with determination to get back into the sun. 

     Wait. 

     Handmade guitar. 

      Your eyes widened as Sans and Frisk stepped through a doorway. It lent a looming finality to the evening, enough that Undyne and Alphys excused themselves. Papyrus busied himself cleaning up. Helping was better than sitting here waiting for Sans to come back - he was your ride home too, after all. 

     By the time he had returned, Papyrus had gone to bed. You were sitting on the couch, bundled in a blanket and sipping at a mug of tea when the front door opened and closed with a click. You stretched, peeking over the back of the couch. 

     Sans looked… tired. There were bags under his eyes and his slippers were covered in muck from outside. Frisk must have wanted to walk home, then. Judging by the water beading off his skull and making the shoulders of his token hoodie darker, it had just started raining. 

     “Long walk?” You said, just barely above a whisper.

     Sans’s head whipped up, eye sockets wide and pinpricks of light small, “ah, crap. you scared me.” 

     “Sorry.” You whispered, taking another sip of tea. 

     He gave you a funny look, shrugging off his hoodie and toeing off his slippers. It left him in a plain white tee and bare-boned feet. “what’re you still doing here?” he asked, leaning on the back of the couch. 

      You shrugged, “Undyne and Alphys left before I could bum a ride home, and Papyrus went to bed once cleanup was done. Kinda left you as my last hope for a ride home, but I’d also be totally happy crashing on the couch if you’re feeling a little like a bicycle.” 

      Sans raised a brow bone at you, “like a bicycle?” 

      “Yeah,” You said, then let the word linger for a moment while you took another sip of your tea, “Y’know,  _ too tired _ .” 

     You definitely were not expecting a genuine laugh from him at that. It wasn’t the belly laugh you were used to when puns were involved, but it was definitely a laugh that lived in his whole body, crinkling the corner of his eye sockets and shaking his shoulders. It actually made him smile, though, and that was your real goal. 

     You loved his laugh. 

     “bud. that was terrible.” He chuckled, grinning at you. 

      You grinned right back, “You weren’t exactly giving me much to work with! Someone once told me if there was no material available it was best to make up your own.” 

     “uh-huh,” Sans gave you a look full of amusement, “might want to work on the delivery.” 

     You shrugged, turning back to your tea and settling back in on the couch. Sans settled next to you, pulling a book out of his own inventory and settling down to read it. It was a good silence, the kind between good friends that didn’t really need filling. 

     You were still the one to break it. 

      “What happened to Frisk’s guitar?” 

     Sans sighed, then looked at you with a knowing smile in place of the usual one, “took you longer than i thought to ask that,” He said, putting his book away, “why?” 

     “Frisk fell down with a guitar, and I remember the news feed when you all made the surface. They were missing for at least a month, and fell down with a tiny guitar and reemerged with a brand new one. Electric red. Right?” 

     Sans shifted to face you with a nod. 

      You inhaled, “That talk about an instrument with no life. It’s… it’s different when you built it. It’s  _ yours _ , it’s a part of you. That’s why they don’t want to go anywhere without it.” 

     His face went carefully neutral, eye lights looking at you with far more calculating intensity than you were used to. “yeah.” 

     “You let me repair your bass - say it was Papyrus all you want, but if you hadn’t liked the vibe you wouldn’t have let me touch her, right? Why?” 

     “you felt right.” Sans shrugged, “the other shops we visited tried to sugar coat it, say it wasn’t so bad. we walked into yours and… and it didn't feel like a store. there was music in the air. and you hand your hand on a viola.” He mimed the posturing needed for such an instrument, and you smiled, “you were about to make music. none of the other shops did that.” 

      You nodded, “I wondered. I’ve been told I ‘get music’ before, never really understood what it meant. Until now. But you didn’t answer my question.” 

      Sans looked at you, one brow ridge raised, waiting. 

      You looked him in the eyes, determined to get your answer. 

      “What happened to Frisk’s guitar?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIFE IS CRAZY. Hope you guys are ready for a wild ride in the next few days. I've had time to write, but no internet, so I"VE GOT CHAPTERS FOR YOU ALL. 
> 
> >> https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH <<


	13. Chapter thirteen

     Silence is always a lot heavier than people realize. It weighs on the shoulders of all involved, making anyone feel like Atlas carrying the world on their shoulders. There were two silences that stuck out in your memory - the one right after your parents had announced their divorce to you, and again when you finally said goodbye and closed the door behind your friends on your first night in your apartment. 

     The silence that followed your question wasn’t quite that heavy, but it came close. 

     Sans sat there for a moment, studying your eyes. This was one of those moments you really wished that he had more facial expressions. There was none of the warm amusement that was usually there, no friendliness or openess or anything you recognized beyond cool, calculating… It chilled you to the bone. Whatever you did recognize in those eye sockets told you that if you had any ill intent to Frisk, or to anyone he considered family, you were going to have a seriously bad time. 

     You held your breath, waiting. 

     He let you sweat for a moment more before closing his eyes with a sigh and a shake of his head, “if i dont tell you, what’re you going to do?” 

     You blinked, “...Ask Frisk, I suppose.” 

     “and when they don’t answer?” 

     “Ask Toriel, or Papyrus maybe.” You shrugged, “Honestly, I’d probably try Toriel before Frisk. She seems like she would tell me how it was, what I’d need to know.” 

     He hummed. 

     You waited. 

     He broke the silence after a few long moments, “do you know the story of the First Human?” 

     You held your hand up and wobbled it from side to side, “Sort of? A human child fell down, and was taken in by the King and Queen. Something happened, I think they got sick? I’m not really sure… But it pissed enough human mages off that they brought up the Barrier, and trapped you guys Underground.” You glanced at Sans, waiting for him to correct you. 

     “close enough,” he shrugged, “that’s about as much as the general monster public got. you are missing a few things though.” 

     “one, asriel and the first human were like this,” he held up two crossed skeletal fingers, “and it was the human’s own fault they fell sick. they made a pie, buttercup, and got really sick. asriel - that’s the king and queen’s son - brought them to the surface to answer their last wish. something about golden flowers from the child’s home village. the humans didn’t listen, and thought asriel had killed the human. they fought, the human died and their souls combined. asriel sang a heartbreaking song, one of mourning and loneliness and fear - probably a little desperation, too, if i’m being honest.” 

     Sans looked at you, “those humans fell asleep, and they never woke up.” He said, and his eyelights grew fuzzy and unfocused, “but when their souls merged, and the pair made it back underground, something happened. something bad. asriel and cha-” he choked on the name, “-the first human conflicted. in a really bad way. and the prince of monsters died as well. apparently, the note they sang as they died was sour.”

     It was a long time before Sans spoke again. You sent your half-finished mug of tea on the floor. Suddenly, the golden flower blend was too bitter for you. 

     “monster’s can’t sing off key.” 

     You look at him, “it’s impossible. we sing in harmony. every time, without fail.” He said, “that’s why frisk was such a shock to us. a human, in perfect harmony, with an instrument that monster’s avoided since the first human fell.” Sans leaned back, eye sockets closed, “frisk gave us hope again. frisk freed us and gave us the sun again.” 

     “So, why the discomfort about the guitar then?” You prodded, “It’s a heavy story, but I‘m not seeing where-” 

     Sans held up a hand to silence you, “hang on, i’m getting there.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “you know how frisk made it through the ruins?”

     You shook your head in a negative.

     “they played music. when they were along, and frightened, they played music to calm themselves down, and it calmed the monsters around them down too. they literally serenaded themselves to the surface - on their third or fourth try.” 

     It was your turn to look surprised, “Third or fourth… What?” 

     Sans waved you off, “complicated. i have a PhD in quantum and theoretical physics, and a handful of others PhDs and i barely understand it -” Woah, smart, funny, and musically inclined? Be still my beating heart. “- but something happened. frisk has memories of doing things several times, and i still get nightmares about…” He trailed off, “...stuff.  so i don’t think they’re lying.” 

     He turns to look at you again, carefully gauging your reaction, “when we finally made it out, something about frisk changed. their eyes changed color and they smashed their guitar on the cliffside. broke it up pretty good too. then they ran  _ back  _ into the underground - scared the daylights out of toriel. had me teleporting all over, looking for the kid. finally found them back at the beginning, where they fell down in the first place.” Sans held his hands up, looking at them, “there was black gunk streaming out of their eyes, their mouth. it was horrible. it all pooled in the flowers where they fell and it just… melted away.” 

     “frisk couldn’t stop crying after that, especially not after seeing their shiny new guitar broken in half. but they were lighter after that, seemed more like themselves.” Sans shuddered, “i don’t know what happened to that black gunk, and i don’t want to.” 

     You kept your mouth shut for a moment, mulling everything over. Sans didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed grateful for the silence. He had just dumped a  _ lot _ of information on you. Enough that it upended basically everything you thought you knew about monsters. Then again, it was kind of silly to assume that humans knew all there was to know after almost a decade… It all set you on edge. Between the rude woman and her son at work the other day, and now knowing that Frisk had - maybe - done some not-so-nice things Underground… It was enough to make anyone sick. 

     “What’d you do?” You said, “When Frisk tried the second time, or even the first. What did you do?”

     “i killed them.” 

     There was no hesitation in his voice. Cold, quiet detachment colored his tone. The lights in his eye sockets were gone, too. 

     You inhaled, taking a moment to think over your next words carefully. 

     “I think I need more tea.” 

     Sans blinked once and his eyelights reappeared. You felt them watching you as you moved to the kitchen and carefully made yourself a cup of tea. Carefully, you waited for the water to boil, going about locating the honey and setting up your mug as you prefered. You hesitated for a moment, then felt yourself settle on a decision and grab another mug. Making tea was a mindless task, which was good.  It gave you a chance to go over the facts. 

     One, Frisk was hurting. Bad. Without an instrument they resonated with there was definitely something missing from their life. 

     Two, some freaky stuff had happened Underground, and it involved all of your new friends. There was a web of stuff that seemed way to nebulous to even try and make sense of. At least for now. 

     Three, Sans had seen some shit. Sans had done some shit. Not in this timeline, apparently, but at one point he had killed a little kid. Same as King Asgore. So… what did that make him? 

     Four, you knew exactly what you were going to do about Frisk’s guitar. 

     When you reentered the living room, Sans was sitting with his head in his hands as he muttered something under his breath. Carefully, you approached, standing in front of him until he looked up at you. He seemed… tired. 

     “you wanna go…” He trailed off, noticing the second mug in your hand, “home?” 

     You shrugged, “Not sure yet. You looked like you needed some tea first.” 

     “heh, thought you would’ve wanted to get away after that.” He said as he took the cup from your hands. 

     “Not especially. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a whole lot to process, but I don’t think it’s going to majorly change anything.” You sipped at your mug, “I know you. Enough to know you don’t do much unless you absolutely have to. Whatever happened, you had to have a good reason. unless you’ve got more to say, then… I’m good. I’ll process it, and probably have questions later.”

     “i’ll answer them.” 

     You smiled, “That’s all I can hope for.” 

     Silence was beginning to be a theme between the pair of you. Like the moment of silence before a massive crescendo in concert. Whatever the silence between the two of you meant, it felt anticipatory. 

     That was enough for you. 

     It didn’t take too long for you to finish your tea. You brought your mug to the kitchen, washed it, and returned to the living room Sans was pulling on his coat and mittens again, clearly getting ready to take you home. 

     “Mittens and a coat? What happened to teleporting?” You said, following suit. 

     “thought we’d walk. give you a chance to ask any questions that popped up.”

     You made a small sound of acknowledgement as you followed him out the door. It took you a minute to work up the guys to actually ask, but there was one question you wanted to know. 

     “How… How’d you do it?” You whispered. 

     Sans’s eye lights flickered over to you, “do what?”

     “How’d you stop Frisk?”

     He hesitated, clearly unsure if he should tell you. That kind of stung. You considered Sans a good friend, and you had hoped he would feel comfortable enough to tell you anything. Before you could think about it too much, your own gloved hand reached out and took his, giving it a gentle squeeze that you hoped was reassuring. 

     It seemed to be exactly what he needed. 

     “magic,” he muttered, not quite looking at you, “nothin’ i can show you out in the open here…”

     Today marked the first time you have ever tugged a skeleton into an alleyway behind you. Sans let himself be dragged along, though you got the feeling that if he really wanted to he could stop you from moving him entirely. A quick glance back at him told you that you had taken him by surprise. 

     “Show me here, then.” You said when you reached the end. 

     Sans raised a brow at you, “seriously? y’know, i have a feeling most people would be running for the hills when their skeletal friend said they had killed a kid several times.” He practically spat out the words, and you felt your heart break just a little bit. 

     “Running isn’t really my style,” you said, “Sans. If I was really afraid of you I wouldn’t have taken your instrument in for repairs in the first place. I wouldn’t have had stars in my eyes after you magicked me up into the air to restock the shop! Hell, if I was scared of monsters at all I wouldn’t be walking home with one after an anime marathon with...” You had to pause to count, “Three and a half others!” Frisk had a Momster, that made them half a monster, right? You held your hands out, palms up and smiled at him, “You’re a friend. A good friend, actually. I’d like you to feel like there’s nothing to hide from me.” 

     Sans had this deer in headlights look stuck on his face. You felt your confidence falter. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

     “Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You whispered, “But, if you decide to, the option is there-”

     You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Sans closed his eyes and lifted his left hand, slicing is downwards with a quick motion. You held your breath as the air around you suddenly hummed with energy that you had never really felt before. The space beside him seemed to shimmer - the dull tones of an alley at night wobbling in place as too many different colors to name seemed to fill the space for a fraction of a second. 

     The two of you were no longer alone. 

     Floating next to Sans was a massive skull of.. something. It looked like a goat, or maybe a dragon? Whatever it was had horns and massive fangs that sent a spike of fear through you. It had little orbs of light in its eye sockets as well, though once it saw you they widened into thick ‘o’ shapes. It opened its mouth and screamed at you - a cacophony of sound that, if you had been running, would have frozen you to the spot. Then the scream changed into a humming sound, like a large laser charging up. You found out just how right that comparison was when a ball of light so vibrantly blue it almost looked white started to form in its mouth. 

     Your eyes went wide. Oh, it was going to shoot that light at you. That… That would not be good. Something in your person made you move, flattening yourself to the wall of the alley. It wasn’t necessary. At the last moment, something in the dragon skull’s eyes changed and it tipped itself upwards, sending a beam of energy soaring into the sky. Then it looked at you with narrowed eyes, and slowly hovered in your general direction. 

     Sans was somewhere in all this, you were dimly aware of that fact. Yet you couldn’t peel your eyes off the thing in front of you. It stopped a few feet away from you, blowing a large amount of air out through its nose. 

     You slowly lifted a hand, palm out. The creature growled when you moved closer, so you stopped, hand outstretched, unable to look away. It was quite the staring match, neither quite willing to budge. Sans was watching you, hands in his pockets, magic gathered and ready to poof the beast away if it actually tried to harm you. 

     You could feel his surprise when the creature chuffed, closed its eyes, and pressed it’s snout into your open hand. 

     “Holy shit.” You breathed, gently stroking its nose. “Holy  _ shit _ , Sans. You can summon dragon skulls?” 

     “uh. yeah?” He said, shuffling to lean on the wall next to you, “this is one of them, but there-”

     You whipped to face him, not stopping petting the skull, “There are MORE?” You grinned, looking back at the beast. It pushed further into your hand - a request for more affection if you had ever seen one. 

     Your grin widened as you pushed off the wall just enough to pet with both hands, “Sans. This is the coolest fucking thing. Holy shit. I’m swearing and I don’t even care, man. Just. Holy fucking shit.” You felt like a little kid, giddy with excitement. “What is it?” 

     “one of my blasters.”

     “Does it have a name?” 

     “uh. no.” Sans said, “they’re not usually friendly enough for me to think about one.” 

     You frowned, scratching under the beast’s chin. It keened at that, emitting a sound almost like a purr. Not friendly enough for a name? That was ridiculous. You starting scratching wherever you could reach, and the skull seemed wonderfully pleased with that. It demonstrated by pushing into you a little harder, effectively squishing you against the wall. It’s amazing. Its like a giant dragon dog thing that hasn’t been loved its entire existence. 

     “Well, it needs a name.” You’ve slipped into the voice you reserve for Whispurr and dogs on the street, “A good little dragon skull monster deserves a name! Yes they do!” 

     The skull lowers it’s jaw in a grin, eyes closed and nothing but happy vibrations coming from it. 

     “Hmm.. What about… Yorick?” The beast blinks at you, “It’s a Shakespeare reference. Very prim and proper.” You say with a solemn nod. 

     The beast doesn’t seem to like that. It pulls away from you, and you frown. 

    “Jon Bone Jovi?” 

     Nope. 

     “Indiana Bones?” 

     Nuh-uh.

     “Skelly Clarkson?” 

     No.

     “Boney-Wan Kenobi?” 

     No!

     You frowned, thinking for a moment. “What about... Bonejangles?” 

     The beast rolls its eyes at you. Sans snickers, “where are you getting these names from?” 

     “I have a couple skeletons as best friends, been waiting for a good joke opportunity.” You answer without missing a beat, “Bone-ita? Jack Skellington? Skeletor?” 

     You finally get a reaction out of the critter at the last name - a pleased trill and a nuzzle. You grinned, mostly to yourself, and wondered if Papyrus had ever seen  _ He-Man  _ or  _ She-Ra _ . Sans, for his part, chuckled in the background as he watched the pair of you with bewildered amusement on his features. 

     “What, cat got your tongue?” You asked, scratching Skeletor under their chin. 

     “something like that,” he said, carefully resting a hand on your new friend, “never seen them react like that before. usually they’re more blasty.” 

     “Everyone needs a little love sometimes. Though I do wonder what stopped them from blasting me in the first place…” You frowned, still scratching. 

     Sans turned bright blue and tried valiantly to hide his head in the fuzz of his jacket, “no clue.”

     Uh-huh. You definitely believed him. One hundred percent. You rolled your eyes at him, attempting to shove Skeletor off just a bit to address your friend a little more directly, “What else can you do? For attack magic, I mean?” 

     Sans blinked, “uh, well, there’s the gravity thing. then the blasters. and, uh, bones?” 

     “Neat.” You nodded, content to sit in the silence that followed. Skeletor was slowly losing interest in you, instead looking at the monster who had summoned him with something close to concern. Or amusement? Man, dragon skulls were harder to read than vaguely humanoid skulls. 

     “I have one more question.” You said. Sans glanced at you, still scratching at his blaster. “Where is Frisk’s old guitar now?”

     “at toriel’s. why?”

     “I want to fix it. Not for the battle or whatever, but for them.” You tack on the last sentence quickly, “I’ve been without a musical voice, it sucks. I want to help.” 

     “then let’s go to toriel’s.” 

     You blink in surprise. You had hoped he would help you out with that, but not quite so readily. “Right now?” 

     He shrugged, “no time like the present, right?” 

     It takes a moment for his words to sink in, “Fair enough. What about Skeletor here?”

     Sans gave the beast a pat on the top of his head, cool as a cucumber, “time to go.” 

     Skeletor let loose a low keen, obviously unhappy to be dismissed so. It looked at you with the biggest (and spookiest) version of puppy-dog eyes you had ever seen. You gave it a hug, and one last pat on the head. 

     “I’ll get him to summon you again, okay Skeletor? I promise.” You whisper. That seems to settle the beast enough for Sans to swipe a hand through the air. It does that weird shimmery thing before your new friend floats through it and Sans closes the.. doorway? behind it. 

     He held out a mittened hand out to you, a silent offer of teleportation to your next destination. 

     You took it with a grin, and the world drops out from under you once again. 

★★★★★ 

     It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing to get Toriel to hand over the battered guitar case that housed what was once Frisk’s favorite instrument. You hugged it tight and thanked her as Sans wrapped an arm around your shoulders and brought you back to the music shop. He teleported right inside, and you were not surprised at all to see the light in your father’s workshop still on. you opened the case for the first time with him, and your own heart shattered. 

     When Sans had said Frisk smashed their guitar, he hadn’t been kidding. The poor thing was in several pieces, with the head and body held together by strings that hadn’t snapped. The neck was in several pieces, and though Toriel had tried very hard to find every piece, there were still some missing. The body was definitely once a bright electric red, but time and damage had discolored it ro more of a deep scarlet color. You gently reached into the case, plucking a piece from the neck and turning it over in your hand. There was the letter R painted on the back, in a font that looked like it belonged in an 8-bit video game. The back of the neck must have read something at one point or another. You would have to ask Toriel about that. 

     Sans sucked in a breath through his teeth when he first saw it. Your father let out a long, low whistle at the damage.

     “You monsters are not easy on your instruments, are you?” You father said, tying his apron back on, “It would be less expensive to buy a new guitar.” 

     You shook your head, “Not an option. The more of the original we can keep, the better. And the more I can help, the better.” Your dad looks up at you from where he’s crouched, looking at the instrument at eye level. “It’s important to a friend. I want to help.” 

     There’s a long moment where the two of you stare at each other, you pleading him to let you held and he asking if you were serious. 

     “I’ll pay for it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You whispered, unwilling to give up eye contact just yet. “Every penny, for the good parts and time and everything. Please.” 

     Your dad stood up with a sigh and rubbed his forehead, “No, no I’m not going to charge you when it means this much to you. Is it for that new friend of yours? In the striped shirt?” 

     You nodded. 

     “I thought so.” He closed the case and you felt your heart drop, “Not tonight, but we can close an hour early tomorrow and get started. I’ve got a cello to repair and a few guitars to restring but otherwise -” You lept forward and pulled your dad into a hug, holding him tight and putting all the gratitude you could into the gesture. 

     Sans watched as your father stumbled, but smiled softly and wrapped his arms around you in turn. He watched as your father rested his cheek on your head, squeezing you tight to him. 

     He wanted to do that. Sans wanted a hug from you. 

    Wait, what? 

     Sans shook his head, clearing away those thoughts and starting to back out of the workshop. That… he felt like he was intruding on time with you and your dad. It was best to leave, and deal with the pressure building behind his eyes. Dad… Did he have a dad? His head hurt, he couldn’t quite remember - 

     “You alright?” 

     Your voice cut through the building pain, colored with concern. Sans blinked a few times, clearing away whatever he had been thinking about and looking up at you, “yeah. just a headache, i think.” 

    “It’s getting pretty late, a lot happened today.” You said, scuffing one toe on the floor. 

     “yeah… been a real doozy.” Sans offered you half a smile, “how many more skeleton themed names you got hiding in that brain of yours?” 

     “You’ll have to wait and see,” you sing-song back at him with a wink. He chooses to ignore the fluttering in his chest at that, contenting himself with a grin back at you.

     “you want a lift back to your apartment?” He said. He knew it wasn’t far, but one more teleport wouldn’t hurt. (He didn’t want the casual closeness of the last trip to be duplicated, not at all. Why would he? It wasn’t like he wanted to know more about why you were so cool about the magic, or the fact that he casually mentioned multiple timelines and you didn’t blink, or his PH.Ds, or that enjoyed your warmth at all. Nope. None of those reasons.) 

     You shook your head, “I don’t think so. There’s a lot to think about, my mom used to say walking was good for that.” 

     Sans nodded. “gotcha. see you tomorrow then?” 

     You hummed, “Dunno. I’ve got a guitar to fix. I’ll text you if I’ve got some free time?” 

     “sounds good.” 

     “Great,” You smiled brightly, “And Sans? Thanks. For telling me those things. It took a lot to say, and it means a lot to hear.” 

_ this is it _ , Sans thinks,  _ i’m gonna lose this one as soon as i get close and it’s gonna hurt. _

     “don’t mention it.” Is what he actually said as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “talk to you later.”

     He was just about to teleport when he heard you call for him to wait. He paused, looking up at you with his magic gathered and buzzing as he prepared to step through the Void one more time. You surprised him again, for the third time that evening, with a hug. He blinked, but before he could return the gesture you had pulled back, half a grin on your lips and running a hand through your hair. 

     “See… See you later, I guess?” You pat him on the head and backpedal back into the workshop. 

     “...see ya.” Sans muttered. 

_ yeah. that’s gonna hurt.  _ Sans thought, cutting a hole in reality to step through to his house,  _ that’s gonna hurt like a butt-cheek on a stick _ . 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebuilding a very important guitar, and a Soul development

     It took you and your dad seven full days to refit Frisk’s guitar. 

     On the first day, you found a few minutes in the busy day to call Toriel and ask her a few questions about the whole situation. You asked her how it had happened, what sound Frisk prefered to play on the guitar, how they played, and most importantly - what was written on the back of the neck. 

     “That was something Frisk painted with myself before they left the Ruins,” Toriel had hummed over the phone. You could hear the sound of children playing in the background, “A reminder to themselves to stay strong and determined.”

     “Huh, good reminder whatever they’d face after that, I suppose.” You said around a mouthful of spaghetti, “Just the one word?” 

     “Yes, my dear. One word. They drew each square themselves, and painted it bit by bit.” 

     “Heh. Bit by bit. Good to know. Thank you, Toriel. Seriously. We couldn’t do this without you.” 

    “If I believed for a moment that it would hurt Frisk, I would not help you. But Frisk chooses not to speak, and not having their preferred method of communication available to them is wearing them away piece by piece.” There is a brief pause as Toriel moves away from the phone to address one of her students, “What you intend to do will help them. I’m sure of it.” 

     “I certainly hope so.” 

     The conversation didn’t go on much longer after that - you had to work and she had scales to teach. Busy busy busy. 

     Cellos and guitars were old hat for your father, and you could do the restringing. It helped lighten his load, and helped him get started on Frisk’s guitar. The first day was dedicated almost entirely to organizing what fragments you had available. The body was almost entirely intact, but would need to be rewired for more modern cables. The neck was another issue entirely. It was splintered, with bits missing entirely, and nearly all of the frets themselves were lost to time. Dad decided the best course of action to take would be something he had never tried on a guitar before.

     “But I think it will work the best,” He said, rummaging through one of his many cabinets in his workshop. “You want to keep the wood we have. It’s all maple, which isn’t exactly cheap. but I do keep the scraps from all my projects.” He had waggled his eyebrows at you on those words, and you laughed in return. 

     The plan was to make a mould of a guitar of the same year’s neck, then fill it with pureed maple shavings mixed with just enough resin or wood glue to hold together. It should have a feel pretty similar to the old guitar, if it worked the way your dad hoped it would. 

     The second day was comprised of building the mould, and rewiring the body. You did most of the heavy lifting there - building a rectangle and pouring silicon over something was easy enough. Wires and electricity weren’t really your thing… But your dad could handle that. 

     The third day was actually filling the mould, the whole shop smelled like glue and woodshavings for the entire day. But the hardest part was complete, and that was enough to make you smile wide at the end of the day. Sans had messaged you once, checking in on things and making sure you didn’t need anything. It was sweet, but you were all set. 

     On the fourth day your dad connected the neck to the body, which meant it was time for you to take over with more of the cosmetic things. Recoloring the body was easy enough - your father had thought ahead and sanded off the old color, so you got to color fresh wood that familiar shade of bright red. And if you splurged on the nice paint with a few sparkles mixed in  (for depth!) then no one would notice. Once the paint had dried, it looked like the guitar wanted to dance in the light. That took most of your day, and with your weekly coffee date that evening it meant you had no time to paint the neck. Not yet, anyway. 

     Day five was dedicated to restringing and fine-tuning the fret placement. Well, once the shop had closed for the day it was. It seemed everyone in the state had wanted to purchase an instrument of some kind that day. You didn’t get to look at your phone all day, which meant you had several messages that went unread the entire day. It was the first day in a long time you had closed at 5:30pm on the dot, locking the door behind you with a huge sigh. Even Whispurr was done with people for the day and had retired to her drumkit in the window, snoozing away on top of one of the snare drums. You spared a moment to scratch behind her ears with a smile. You wished you were a cat in that moment, sprawling in comfort as some person scratched at your favorite places. There was a knock at the glass door and you winced. There was always someone… The question was if you let them in or told them to leave. 

     Thankfully, it was just Sans. And, bless him, he was carrying a bag full of take-out from Grillby’s. You could swoon right then and there - instead, you grinned and unlocked the door. 

     “You are a literal angel.” You said by way of greeting him, quickly locking the door and flipping the sign behind him to CLOSED. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

     Sans hummed, setting things out on the counter, “you didn’t answer my texts, was worried ‘bout you.” 

     “Aw, Sansy, you do care.” You said as you patted the top of his head, “Seriously though, thank you. Dad and I haven’t had a chance to eat at all today.” 

     Your skeletal friend looked appalled, “no time to eat? that’s atrocious, what would pap think?” 

     “Human! How could you! Food is the most important part of the day!” You answered with your chest puffed out and voice louder than normal - a rough approximation of your dear friend Papyrus. 

     The smile on Sans’s face after that was almost too bright to look at. 

     You were saved from your staring by your father entering the main shop, wiping his hands on his apron, “Are those burgers I smell? Tell me they’re from that grill down the way.” His stomach grumbles right on cue, which seems to signal to yours that it was time to perform a moving duet about how hungry the pair of you were. Sans nodded as he began pulling various food items out of his paper bag. Three burgers, a large order of fries, an order of poutine, a little box of chicken wings, some celery and carrots with what looked like blue cheese, mozzarella sticks - good grief, was there and end to this bag? - a small order of nachos, an entire bottle of ketchup that he immediately placed in front of himself, and.. tater tots? 

     “Jeez, did you buy out the entire place?” You whistled, ignoring the increasing saliva gathering in your mouth, “How much do I owe you for all this?”

     Sans shrugged, reaching further still into the paper bag, “uh, like three bucks for the milkshakes, cause grilbz had never heard of them before and wasted two things of nice cream before he got it right.”

     You raised an eyebrow, “I don’t see any milkshak--” 

     Sans reached out and pressed a phalange to your lips, effectively silencing you. When did the two of you get close enough to touch? You felt your cheeks heat up, but pursed your lips together and tried not to think about how smooth the bones felt against your skin. You felt that heat creep into your ears as his eye lights twinkled and his upper body shifted to the point where his entire arm was in the bag. Then he grinned and pulled out a drink tray with three milkshakes on it. 

     You burst out laughing, leaning back from Sans’ hand and wrapping your arms around your stomach. Of course, of  _ course  _ he had a Mary Poppins bag, of course he put the milkshakes at the bottom because this was  _ Sans  _ for heaven’s sake. Your dad joined in too, his own quiet laughter coming from the workshop door and moving closer. Your eyes were shining and stomach hurt when you finally got a hold of yourself and managed to keep the giggles down for a moment. 

     Sans had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. He had placed the tray down and was holding his own milkshake, “wow, i see we’ve got an overworked buncha luthiers in the house tonight,” he took a mock little bow in the direction of your father, then turned to you. His smile split lengthwise down the middle and his mouth opened, displaying those little fangs and a long, blue tongue that licked up the whipped cream. All while not breaking eye contact, “maybe you need dinner and a show.” 

     Your brain supplied a very vivid image of said show - Sans, dressed in his usual hoodie, shorts, and slippers… but swinging in a lazy circle on a stripper pole. It probably wasn’t the image he intended to invoke, but it was hilarious all the same. You snorted and immediately covered your mouth and nose with one hand, turning away and trying desperately to regain some composure. 

     Sans had cocked his head to one side, watching you try and fight off laughter in what was clearly a losing battle. That… wasn’t quite the effect he had been going for, but it worked. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see your father watching you with fondness in his eyes. 

     “Come on, it’s been a long day, let her have the laugh,” Your dad said with a pat on his shoulder, “I, for one, am starving. Let’s eat, but leave her the poutine. If we eat it all before she gets any -” 

     “-she’ll riot.” Sans said with a grin, “i’ve been there before, not eager to experience it again.” 

     Your dad smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder before letting go, “You two will do just fine. Now, tell me about this nice cream milkshake. I don’t think I’ve had nice cream before...”

     Day six was also busy, it seemed everyone was gearing up to participate in that Battle of the Bands. You sold seven different electric guitars, and a marimba that took fifteen minutes to load into the purchaser’s car. Thankfully, today was the easiest part of repairing Frisk’s guitar - testing to make sure everything worked, and finishing up the painting the neck of the instrument. You and Toriel had arranged a meeting after hours - Frisk was having a sleepover with the skeleton brothers, which meant that you could borrow the Momster for a few minutes to make sure everything was as close to correct as you were going to get it. She gasped when you first pulled the instrument out of its new case, and held it with gentle hands. Toriel played maybe ten notes before you saw her eyes well up. 

     “It sounds so similar to the old one,” Toriel whispered, closing her eyes and handing the instrument back to you, “It even looks like the old one, except for -” 

     “-The lettering on the neck. I know,” You nodded, “I wanted to make sure I had everything else as right as I could before I painted it.” 

     Toriel smiled at you, barely giving you enough time to place the guitar back in its case before wrapping you in a massive hug. 

     “Thank you.”  

★★★★★ 

     The hardest part about this whole repair thing was gifting it to Frisk without making them feel like they  _ had _ to participate in the Battle just because you fixed their guitar. Papyrus and Undyne were still all for competing - they reasoned there was still plenty of time to whip up a song or two for the qualifying round. Sans wasn’t really particular, and Alphys really didn’t want to travel too far from the safety of Mt. Ebott. 

     As cool as it would be to get to compete, the whole thing was moot if not everybody was game. Especially if someone had an instrument they didn’t want to travel with. 

     Point was, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if your friends decided to compete or not. What mattered was that Frisk had their voice back. You just hoped you hadn’t overstepped any boundaries in repairing their guitar…

     Which brought you to the whole point of this evening. An easy dinner in your apartment with Frisk and Toriel. You had run the idea by your favorite skeleton, and you had both agreed Undyne might be a bit too much for both the small space and the gift. As much as Sans himself wanted to be there, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to invite just him and not his brother for such a big event. Smaller was better, there would be less pressure on Frisk to do... well, to do anything other than what they wanted to do. 

     You had cleaned your apartment to the point where it felt like everything sparkled, vacuumed, folded clothes, even brought Whispurr home with you to make sure the place was as homey as can be, especially as she sprawled on your little couch, paws outstretched and belly exposed as she purred away. You had Frisk’s instrument stashed in your bedroom, just beyond the door. Your own instruments were spread about - a mandolin, a viola, and a cajon in one corner, with an mbira on the tiny coffee table. A small television was on the same wall, perched on a teeny television stand that also housed your gaming console of choice and a few discs. You had swapped out the bright white lights that came with the place for a couple strings of fairy lights hung up on the ceiling with tacks - it was a softer light that spread a little more evenly throughout the space. 

     The kitchen smelled great, for your part. Monsters did need to have some magic in their food, so with Grillby’s help you had whipped up a fairly simple minestrone soup and homemade bread that would cover everyone’s dietary needs. The little round table you called a dining table was set, three places with spoons and glasses. 

     There was literally nothing else to do but wait. 

     Man, you hated waiting. 

     Your stomach started turning in knots as you waited, each tick of the clock on the wall echoing louder and louder in your head. What if they didn’t come? What if Toriel hated soup? What if Frisk didn’t want their guitar and hated you for even trying? What if - 

     Whispurr bumped into your shins with a curious little  _ mrrp? _ It was enough to pull you out of your worry spiral with a smile as you bent down to stroke her back. 

     “You’re right, it’ll be fine. I don’t need to worry.” You muttered, “There’s nothing to be concerned about.” 

     Whispurr made another sound at you, gently rasping her tongue along your closest finger before padding away. She was right, no sense in worrying before it was all set up. Better to keep your mind thinking of something else, so you didn’t overthink the whole evening. That meant making your own music. 

     You glanced at the instruments in the corner, chewing on your lip and trying to decide which to play. Your eyes lingered on your viola, and you smiled. It was always your viola. She just felt… she felt right. And she hardly ever fell out of tune. Holding her, playing her was something beyond muscle memory at this point - there was brain power involved with muscle memory. This was... you just picked up your viola and played. You made music. That was always the only option with this instrument. It was like it had a mind of its own, begging to be used to create and invoke emotions that most people didn’t realize they had. It never took long to get lost in the music, either. three notes, and it was like the rest of the world vanished while you played a song that spoke of your Hopes and Dreams with this evening, with making such a big gesture to someone you’ve only known a few weeks. 

     You played one last little phrase, and there was a knock on your door. 

     Perfect timing. 

     “Come in!” You called as you set the viola back on its stand, making a point to loosen the hairs on your bow before picking up the fine cloth you used to clean the excess rosin off the strings, “Door should be unlocked!” 

     Toriel was the first to enter, with Frisk right behind them. You waved with the cloth still in your hand, “Hey! Welcome to casa de, uh, mine?” You said with a grin and a shrug, “It’s not much, but it’s home. Make yourselves comfortable, dinner’s almost ready. Just waitin’ on the bread to finish.” 

     “It smells lovely in here,” Toriel hummed, closing her eyes and inhaling, “Is that Grillby’s recipe?” 

     You had finally finished cleaning your instrument, and nodded, “Yeah. I know monsters need magic in their food, so I wanted to make sure that I was cooking with the right stuff. I’ve never had a bad meal at Grillby’s, and he was totally happy to help.” 

     Toriel smiled softly, while Frisk gave you a sly grin and lifted their hands to sign. 

_ You realize mom taught Grillby most of his recipes, right?  _ They signed. Your phone lit up as it translated,  _ Grillby and mom have been buds since forever. _

     “In that case, I hope my bread lives up to expectations.” You swallowed, “I’ve never cooked with magic before, so…” 

     Toriel placed a hand on your shoulder, “I am sure it will be delightful, my child. Cooking with magic is much less about skill and more about intent, unlike human cuisine. I trust your intentions, the food will be wonderful.” 

     You smiled at her in thanks, feeling your own heart ache a little at how much she made you miss your own mother. You would have to call her once the night was over and catch up. There was a chirping sound from your kitchen - the bread timer was going off. 

     “Ooh! Bread’s done! You guys have great timing,” You waved at the living area, “Please, sit, make yourselves at home! I’ll have everything on the table in two minutes.” 

     Frisk made a beeline for the mbira you had sitting on your coffee table, plunking away at the little metal bars and playing a simple melody that sounded like raindrops on a tin roof. It made you smile, and provided quite the homey little soundtrack for you to finish dinner.

     You were so lost in the warmth from the bread and the comfort of the music, you didn’t realise Toriel had followed you into the kitchen. You were struggling to get the bread out of the pan (Hadn’t you used enough coconut oil? What the heck!) when she places a furry paw on your shoulder. 

     “Please child, allow me.” She says with a soft smile, then somehow manages to simply flip the bread pan and the bread slides out. She sets about slicing it with easy practiced motions, though she does cast a quick glance to the living area before speaking to you in a voice just above a whisper. 

     “You have everything needed for tonight, correct? Is there anything I can help with?” 

     You shook your head, “I don’t think so. Newish guitar, new case, extra strings,” You ticked off each item on a finger as you listed them, “A variety of guitar picks, new cables for the new--” 

     Ah, there was the reason you felt so unsteady about this whole thing. 

    “New amp that I left at the store.” You thumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, “Crap. Can’t play an electric guitar without an amp.” 

     Toriel peered at you as you paced and muttered to yourself. It would be weird to jump out to the store quick, dinner was ready and you had guests over, so you couldn’t leave. You didn’t play any electric instruments, so you didn’t have a spare lying around… Man, you had royally screwed this one up, hadn’t you? 

     You look at Toriel, panic starting to make your shoulders crawl up to your ears and tighten every muscle in your neck. 

     She only smiles softly, reassuring you with one simple gesture and phrase, “It is a shame you can’t teleport.” 

     “Ugh, I know! That would be crazy handy right now. what I wouldn’t give to have…” Your eyes lit up, “teleport magic. And gravity magic. Toriel, you’re a goddess! Thank you!” You rush forward, giving her the tightest hug you can manage before retreating (stealthily) to your bedroom. You had a phone call to make. 

     True to form, Sans waited until the last possible second to answer the phone, “joe’s crematorium, you smoke ‘em, we roast ‘em. how can i help you?” 

     “Yeah, when’s your next available appointment? I’ve got a body I’d like to toast.” You can’t help but play along, especially when you catch a snort of a laugh from the other end. 

     “oh, i think we can fit you in within the hour -”

     You cut him off, “Great, because someone forgot to bring home the new amplifier for their fancy rebuilt guitar present and they’re gonna need a funeral. With flames.” 

     There’s a moment of silence before your skeletal friend decides to speak up, “seriously? you forgot the amp?” 

     “I know, I know. And I think I have a way to fix it but I need a favor,” You drop your voice to a whisper, “Can you pop over real quick? I’m in my room, Frisk is in the living room.” 

     You don’t even finish the sentence before there’s a surprised sound from the kitchen. You dart back over there, fishing out keys from your pocket as you move. Frisk’s music halts, and you hear them shuffling around to see what’s up. 

     “All good!” You call out as you enter the kitchen. Sans is standing in the middle of the space, smiling a sheepish smile up at Toriel, who has a hand pressed to her chest in shock. “Soup was hotter than expected. All good.” 

     There is a long moment where the three of you hold your breath. On some unspoken signal, Sans and Toriel relax. You stay frozen in place until Sans nods at you, then whispers “frisk said they hope you’re okay. don’t burn yourself again.” 

     “I won’t. I’ll be extra careful.” You make sure to call the words out just loud enough that they would carry across your apartment. Toriel gives you a knowing look before stepping out with a cutting board full of bread. It seems she’s given all the help she intends to give, but it was all the help you needed. 

     Before you could second guess yourself you stepped forward to envelop Sans in a tight hug, whispering a genuine  _ thank you _ in the general area where his ear would be. If he had them. Anatomy, you really needed to brush up on anatomy. “Thank you, seriously, I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off--” 

     “---you’re not if you don’t tell me the plan,” He whispers back, voice pitched low to help the sound stay between the two of you. Really low. And right next to your ear. You felt your stomach flip and face grow red before pulling back from the hug with a grin you hoped cover the sudden awkwardness you had discovered. 

     “Exactly. Here’s the plan,” You whispered. Boiled down, it turned into you lending Sans your key, telling him your six-digit code to disarm the store’s security system, and the exact location of the amplifier you had set aside for your friend. “ ---And then just teleport it all back to my room, easy peasy.” 

     Sans nodded, “can do. which room is yours?” He glanced behind you, “can’t ‘port somewhere i’ve never been.” 

     Oh.  _ Oh _ . That was why he hadn’t just teleported into your room when you called. That… actually made sense. Your mouth opened in an understanding ‘o’ shape, immediately followed by you nodding and motioning for him to follow you just down the hall. As quietly as you could manage, you nudged the door open, gesturing to your bedroom without quite meeting Sans’ eyes. 

     “This is me. Feel free to pop in any time,” You whispered and then immediately added, “Except you should text first. To make sure I’m awake. But otherwise anytime is probably a good time.” 

     Was your face as red as it felt? You really hoped not. Sans didn’t seem to mind, just gave a quick glance around the room. Your bed was on the far wall from the door, next to the one window in the room. There was a desk right next to the door covered in miscellaneous papers and bills - not that you weren’t on top of it all, just that you weren’t very organized about it. Your desktop dominated most of the desk, with a neat little figure of your main character from your favorite video game perched on top. 

     Sans’ eyelights lingered on the figure, then glanced back at you like he was filing away information. You raised an eyebrow at him. Was he judging you for your game choices? You crossed your arms at him, opening your mouth to question when you heard Toriel’s voice. 

     “The bread is cut, how is the soup?” 

     “Ready! I’m bringing out the pot now!” You called back, giving Sans a rushed grin as you jogged back out. He would take it from here. You trusted him.  Frisk was probably already suspicious as it was. 

     Thankfully, the rest of dinner went off without a hitch. You had made a few changes to the soup to suit your personal tastes, but otherwise it was just as magical and delicious as ever. Even Toriel complimented your (personally what you thought were pretty mediocre) cooking skills. Your phone buzzed midway through the meal - you pause long enough to glance at the message: 

**[Mr. Funny Bones, 19:20]** **  
** **👍**

You smiled to yourself before tuning back into the conversation at the table. Yep, Sans had it under control. Saved your skin, again. 

     Frisk waved their hands at you, grabbing your attention before they began signing. Your phone lit up as it translated for you,  _ Who’s texting you that’s got you so smiley? Is it Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaans?  _

     How did a phone manage to sound so teasing? 

     “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You returned, sticking your tongue out with a giggle.

_ Actually I would.  _ They signed,  _ Tell me! Or I’ll be forced to magic it out of you.  _

__ “Pfft, you can’t magic it out of me…. Can you?” 

     The only response Frisk gave was a mischievous grin. You were reminded of the stories Sans told you, about a Frisk with their hands caked in dust and malice - not mischief - in their eyes. As quick as the thought came, it went away. That might have been a different Frisk, but it wasn’t the one sitting in front of you. They could never hurt someone.  

     Right? 

     You cleared your throat, glancing at Toriel before looking back at Frisk, “So, uh, tactical subject change here, I have a gift for you. Hang tight for a moment.” 

     You stood and darted back to your room through the kitchen, returning with the guitar case in one hand and the amp in the other. 

     Frisk’s eyes widened, then dulled. They raised their hands to speak, but you cut them off before they could begin signing. 

     “Listen, I know you don’t want to battle, and that’s totally fine. I understand the decision and  this is in no way to persuade you to change your mind. Just… Play it before you refuse it, okay?” 

     You unclasped the case, lifting the lid to showcase the refurbished - or maybe rebuilt was a better word? - guitar. A classic Fender design, bright red with darker glitters lurking below the surface. Clean frets, shiny new strings, even a new strap. You held your breath as all emotion vanished from Frisk’s face. They reached out and gently trailed a finger along the body, then hesitated as they looked up at you. You nodded, sitting back on your heels as Frisk pulled it out of the case. Their eyes started shining as they turned the instrument over in their hands, even letting out a breathy laugh as they traced over the lettering you had painstakingly painted square by square in the brightest red you could manage. 

     “Toriel gave me the pieces of your old guitar,” You began as they examined the instrument, “It was… well, it was rough. We had to rebuild the neck, but the fragments from your old one are in there - we made a mould and set some maple shavings in around the original pieces. And I repainted it. Dad did the frets and Sans helped out with the wiring. It’s not the exact same as the original, but we came pretty close…” You trailed off. Frisk had the strap slung over their shoulders, holding it like it was the most fragile thing in the world. 

     “I also reinforced it. It’s solid. Nothing short of a dump truck could crush it now,” You whispered, “I… I hope it’s got enough life in it for you.” 

     Frisk inhaled, golden eyes shining with something that looked like tears as they turned their gaze to you. It seemed that they were beyond words at the moment. they nodded at the amp beside you, and you tossed them the cable. Once it was plugged in, you clicked the amplifier on. 

     That familiar electrical hum filled the air for a moment. Frisk took another deep breath and plucked a single note, letting it ring and fade out as it pleased. They did it again, and once again, with each note the expression on their face became less neutral and more… more joyful. 

     You waited with bated breath until they smiled properly and began playing [a melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJAlLmGJ83w) that made your Soul ache with the memories of a time when you had both your parents in the same house. Toriel silently rose from the dinner table and moved to the keyboard in the corner, joining Frisk’s melody seamlessly. Frisk actually laughed as that happened, playing a tune they clearly had not played in many years. Your own face hurt from how wide you were smiling. Carefully, you raised your phone, snapping a picture of the two musicians lost in a melody they were creating. You sent that one to Sans, and to your father as well. 

     The two of them played for nearly an hour, transitioning from one melody to the next without any visible communication between them. Part of you wanted to pick up your viola and join, but the other part knew better. This wasn’t about the music, this was about Frisk having their voice back. Literally. 

     “ _ Well, it’s definitely not the same instrument I once had, but it’ll do.”  _

     “Oh thank goodness, I was really worried that-” 

     “-- _ you really didn’t have to do all this for me though. I was fine with the black guitar _ .” You glanced at your phone, only to find that it wasn’t translating. That wasn’t the 8-bit voice the phone generated you were hearing. That… that sounded an awful lot like the voice Frisk had used the one time you had heard them speak. Only without the gravel and with all the richness of a symphony. 

     “You… you weren’t. Frisk, if you hadn’t played for people in years because you didn’t have that guitar, you weren’t fine with the black one,” You continued, placing your phone face down on the table and turning to look at Frisk, “You needed your voice back. I wanted to help.” 

    “ _ Thank you.”  _ They said, playing a few scales as they spoke - or maybe as you listened? “ _ It means the world that you would do this for me. Seriously.”  _

__ You nodded. Frisk wasn’t signing anymore, they couldn’t with their hands occupied with the guitar. How were you hearing them? Was it like Grillby? Or… How? 

     Maybe that was a question better asked at a later time. You liked listening to Frisk like this, their actual voice was so much more expressive than the computer generated one. “It’s all yours too, the guitar, the case, the amplifier. Everyone pitched in a bit, there’s extra strings, picks, a few straps and cables. Alphys made you a little pocket-amp to carry around with you so you didn’t have to lug the huge one around all the time…” You showed Frisk where each item was kept as you mentioned it, giving Frisk a full tour of their new kit. 

_ “Awesome.”  _ They said, grinning and continuing to mess around, “ _ This instrument is amazing. It’s so… alive! It feels like it’s the kid of my old one or something, maybe the grandchild, I don’t know…  It’s got spunk.”  _  Frisk grinned up at you, “ _ The lettering is a great touch. I didn’t realize how much I needed that reminder.  Thank you.”  _

__ “Anything for a friend. Now keep playing! I feel like I could listen to the pair of you all night!” You grinned. Whispurr chose that moment to remind the group they were here with a loud MEOW. Toriel laughed, lifting the feline into her arms. 

_ “Only if you play with us.”  _ Frisk grinned,  _ “I see that acoustic guitar over there. Show me what you got!”  _

      “Oh, I don’t know, I”m not very good….”

_ “C’mon!”  _ Frisk said your name through a laugh, shaking brown hair out of their eyes,  _ “You can do it! You just gotta stay DETERMINED!” _

__ That one word seemed to send a lightning bolt through your Soul. A warmth blossomed in your chest that spread out through your fingertips and toes. Frisk was right, confidence was key! Sure, you weren’t a virtuoso like they were, but you could carry a tune and stay in key. It had been too long since you had a jam session. 

     You held up your hands in surrender, shaking your head as you grabbed the guitar and laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if I messed up any grammar or spelling or even if there are any inconsistencies! 
> 
> Double majoring and doing three plays is too much to also write regularly - but I haven't forgotten about this piece!
> 
> Music inspo => https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJAlLmGJ83w  
> Discord link! => https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH


	15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Band Battles make for a busy music business - but with busy days come not-so-great customers. And enough flashing colors to give anyone a headache.

     It seemed like Frisk found a reason to stop by the shop at least every other day after the Big Gift. One day it was for more picks, and another for an extra cable, and again just to try out the different amplifiers you had in store. Eventually, you had called them out on it as you stretched to restock some of the heavy gauge bass strings. 

     “You know, you can just visit because you want to, that’s allowed and encouraged.” 

     They had shrugged, and signed something about liking to have reasons to visit their friends. You threw a packet of strings at them, stating that wanting to see a friend was reason enough. They didn’t have a snappy comeback for that one, but at least they seemed to get the point. Friends meant you could visit whenever you wanted, even if you were just looking to be around people. 

     There still was the matter of your sudden ability to listen to Frisk, even with your back turned, phone off, and them furiously waving their hands as they signed. You hadn’t mentioned it to anyone quite yet… It felt like something that would have a Soul Magic lecture hot on its heels, and as curious as you were about that, there were bigger things to worry about. 

     Like how  _ everyone in town  _ was trying to amp up their instruments to have a chance to compete in that darn Battle of the Bands coming up. 

     It meant the shop was always busy - your dad had more repairs and tune ups to do this week than he had the entire previous month. People were actually offering to pay double just to have theirs done sooner than the rest. But your father had some integrity, and insisted that everything was done on a first-come-first-serve basis. His reasoning was that if they could wait until two weeks before the big competition, they could wait two more days for him to do it right. 

     You missed your friends. Fuku and Dahria had been disappointed, but understanding when you told them you wouldn’t make lunch because it was just too busy to take the usual hour break. You and your dad were being worked to the bone, and it wasn’t as much fun as you tried to make it seem - though your bank account certainly wasn’t complaining. There had barely been any time to chat when your friends did pop in to make sure you were still alive. There had been some poutine that mysteriously appeared behind the counter one day, fresh from Grillby’s (you had inhaled it before sending Sans a very quick THANK YOU) but that was pretty much the extent of the interactions you were able to have with your friends. 

     Closing time couldn’t come fast enough 

     It seemed like everyone in town was in the shop all at once this particular Saturday - a whole thirty minutes before close. And who was the last person to walk in the door but that same May-I-Speak-To-The-Manager woman from weeks ago, with her son in tow. you watched her out of the corner of your eye, too busy trying to help a vulkin to give her a moment. 

    She did not care. In fact, she seemed to demand your attention. She coughed, holding her son close by the shoulder with a death grip. 

     “I’m with another customer, be with you in a moment,” You glanced at her, forcing a smile on your face instead of a frown at the unfortunately familiar sight of her yellow green and brown combination. You turned back to the vulkin, crouching to their eye level as you held out the different options for them. 

     You don’t even make it through the first sentence before a polished pair of black heels step over and in front of the vulkin, leaving you eye level with nylon covered kneecaps. You blinked, mouth open as the vulkin made a confused sound and tried to sidestep the  human. She actually moved to stay in front of the little monster. 

      You dropped the customer service face, instead glaring up at the woman, “Look, ma’am I’m with another customer at the moment. I”ll be with you in--”

     “Is the manager around?” She cut you off, “I’d like to have a chat with them.” 

     You barely suppressed an eye roll, you made a point to lean around her and address the vulkin, “I’ll be back in a moment, and I”m happy to give you a discount for the interruption.” The little monster seemed to understand, and walked away. Her son watched the creature curiously, but didn’t move from his mother’s side. 

     Slowly you turned back to face the woman, “What seems to be the problem?”

     She blinked, crossing her arms, “My poster isn’t on display. I want it up.”

     “Which poster?”

     She shoved a piece of paper into your hands - it featured a tall goat monster in a pop-art style, with various shades of purple. There were bats, and one of those hard to read fonts that metal bands were so fond of, it looked like the goat was the main attraction, there also looked to be a blob of a monster backing them up on guitar, and a tall feline figure playing the drums. You squinted, trying to make out the band name…

[IMAGE HERE] 

     “ _ Hyperdeath? _ ” You questioned, looking up at her, “This looks like a monster band.” 

     “Your point?” Her tone was clipped and harsh. 

      Inhale. Exhale. “Didn’t think you approved of monsters.” Your tone is just as dry as hers. 

     The smile that crept across her too red lips was, frankly, terrifying. You swallowed and shifted your weight to the other side as you kept eye contact. They were so… empty. 

     The world seemed to flash yellow and green and purple for a moment before you felt like you were falling into those dark, bottomless brown eyes. You blinked, and when you opened your eyes you found yourself standing in a flower patch in the middle of a village. There were two figures there… both kids. One human. One goat..? You furrowed your brows, glancing around. This wasn’t right, you were supposed to be back in the music shop, not in this weird village… and those flowers… you had never seen anything like them on the surface. There was a sad bleating sound, something half sobbed - the goat-kid was crying. Everything sort of zoomed in on the two of them… a human in a handmade sweater, striped green and yellow. There was blood trickling out of the corner of their mouth… the goat was crying out for help. You looked at the buildings around the two of them, waiting….

     But nobody came. 

     You watched as the human exhaled and fell still. 

     The next several moments happened far too quickly to properly register. There was a shout, and humans began flooding out of the houses, swarming the goat. You got an impression of the monster throwing back it’s head and wailing - no, no it was singing. It was singing a song despite the furious humans brandishing swords and spears. then a flash of darkness and the humans were laying on their backs, the ones closest to the monster splayed out and unmoving. Somehow, you knew they weren’t dead, just sleeping. Forever. 

     Next, the goat was carrying the little human back into the Underground - there was the silhouette of a castle in the distance. Another flash of black - before two hearts came into view. One upright and bright red, and another white and inverted. They seemed to float close to each other - they were trying to merge, but the shapes were all wrong. They didn’t match. 

     Everything screamed out in pain and the world was filled with too much color - blinding flashes of yellow, cyan, green, violet, blue, orange and red all swirling together and moving so quickly you felt like you were going to be sick. Another outline of the little goat monster, throwing back his head and screaming out one last note that seemed to shatter everything except the two hearts - Souls - you were watching try to merge. You watched as the color seemed to drain out of the white soul and absorb into the red one, leaving only a faint outline before that sunk into the ground. The red Soul - the Human Soul - glowed brighter for a moment before sticky black dripped down it, obscuring the red completely. 

     Then a dot appeared. And another next to it. 

     Below those, a slow, shallow curve. 

     It was smiling at you. 

     There was the sensation of falling and suddenly you were back in your own shoes, staring down this Karen with a poster in your hand. 

     That… that was unsettling. 

     It was an effort not to pass out after that experience. 

     “I expect you to post that immediately.” She said, lifting her nose, “I expect you get all sorts in here. Maybe someone with a little taste will make this trip worthwhile.”

     “What’s your deal?” Ah, there was that fire you were missing, that is a much better feeling than the nausea from before, “I get it, you’ve got money, that doesn’t mean you can come in here with your too-shiny monsterphobic heels and trample all over my customers, or me, or my friends.” 

     Her son winced in the background - and when she smiled at you again, it was the same smile you saw in that vision of yours. The one in the black of that Soul. 

     “I am the most important person in this town, dear,” She said through a smile that felt like a threat, “I am the reason this town exists in the first place, and I can just as easily ensure that it is torn down.” She reaches into her pocket and produces a business card - black as anything with a golden flower on one side, and the words  **GOLDEN FLOWER PRODUCTIONS** in the same shiny gold, with big block letters. 

     “I am responsible for everything,” She whispered, “And I can just as easily be responsible for your undoing.” 

     The bell above the door jingled, pulling the two of you away from your stare off.

     “HUMAN! WE HAVE COME TO LIBERATE YOU FROM YOUR PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT FOR THE WEEKEND!” Papyrus came striding in, holding the door open for his brother and Frisk behind him, “WE HAVE SOMETHING TO DISCUSS WITH YOU!” 

     Sans spotted you and grinned, lifting a hand to wave only to freeze when he saw the woman you were speaking to. Frisk made eye contact with the woman - in the absence of a name on the business card, you elected to call her Karen - and instantly paled. 

       You never wanted to hear your name come out of Karen’s mouth ever again, “Oh, dear, you didn’t tell me Frisk was a friend of yours.” She stalked forward, grinning. The look in her eyes reminded you of a tiger lying in the bush, waiting. “Frisk, dear, it’s been far too long. I hope all is well?”

     She reached forward to wrap your friend in a hug  - but was met by a wall of bones. Both bright blue and a peachy white. Papyrus and Sans wasted no time in jumping to your friend’s rescue - Papyrus shoving himself in front of Frisk and Sans standing completely still with the lights missing from his eyes. There was a humming in the air, some note so low you couldn’t identify it as a note, but it made everything about you stand on edge. You were staring at Sans with your mouth open, the world began to flash yellow-green-purple again but you closed your eyes and looked away before you could fall down another one of… well, another of whatever that experience earlier had been. One was enough for one day. 

     “back off.” 

     A shiver went up your spine, leaving you feeling way too cold in the shop. To the casual observer, Sans sounded almost normal. Even with his eye sockets currently manifesting as bottomless black pits, and the grin on his face showcasing a set of  _ very _ sharp fangs, he looked like you could punt him across a football field without any difficulty. If you hadn’t seen him use his gravity magic to help load in twenty full size amplifiers and a drum kit all at once, you might even be in the same camp. Well, and if you hadn’t seen him summon a frikken Dragon Skull that almost blasted you to bits. 

     Karen tilted her head to the side, almost too perfectly. The world seemed to darken for a moment, shrinking into shadows that gathered at her fingertips. The world around Sans seemed to be folding inwards, too many colors silhouetting his frame You realized that, if these two were allowed to properly slug it out, things would get messy - like, messy in the sense there would be a crater where your shop currently was. 

     That would be mildly inconvenient. 

     You stepped forward between the two monsters (You assumed Karen was a monster, the only other human you knew of who could use magic was Frisk.) giving Sans a pleading look that turned into a frozen glare as you faced Karen. 

     “This is neither the time or place for this.” You stood tall between the two of them, gaze slowly sweeping between the two and then the rest of the shop, “If you’re going to fight, take it outside. This is a place for creativity. Not. Violence.” You made a point to make those last two words stand out, looking right as Sans on the first and at Karen on the second. 

     For one terrifying moment, neither of them backed down. 

     Then the little boy stepped forward, yellow and green sweater neatly pressed and shoes immaculately shined. He tugged on his mother’s sleeve - pulling her down to his level to whisper something in his ear. Slowly, very slowly, the shadows that were swirling around her figure dissipated, and the too-red of her eyes and lips seemed to fade. She closed her eyes, straightening and taking a moment to breathe. You watched something more human slipped over her, something a little less frightening and a little more… motherly? She looked at you, bared her teeth at you, and walked out the door. Her little boy stayed glued to her side the entire time, not taking his eyes off the poster in your hand. 

     He lingered at the door, finally making eye contact with you. 

     “ _ Hyperdeath _ needs you to post that poster. Please.” His mouth never moved, but you heard him the same way you heard Frisk. “Something’s wrong with Mama. Please. They need you” 

     Sans didn’t let his magic dissipate until the pair was well out of sight.

     No one moved for what felt like an eternity. You sighed, stepping forward to lock the door and flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. You leaned against it, sliding down to sit on the floor and rest your head in your free hand. You were so ready to be done with the shop for the day. Maybe a week. Maybe you could just close for a few extra days to rest and -- you laughed to yourself, lifting your head to offer a tentative, exhausted grin to your friends. 

     “Well, that was exciting.” 

_ That’s one word for it. _ You heard Frisk speak, not even blinking at the fact that they weren’t using their hands or mouth,  _ How… how long have they been coming in here?  _

__ You held up a hand to stop Sans from translating the question, “That’s maybe their third or fourth visit. The kid’s not so bad, but she never lets him speak. I wish I could say she was usually nicer, but…” 

_ That ‘thing’ shouldn’t be a mother.  _ Frisk said, their face turning sour,  _ That ‘thing’ shouldn’t even be on the surface. I thought it Dusted, I thought it was gone for good. I thought I would never had to see those eyes again.  _ They turn to look at Sans with mounting panic in their eyes, _ I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.  _

__ Sans met their gaze, but his eyelights still hadn’t returned. Even Papyrus looked a little nervous about that, shifting his weight from one food to the other while fidgeting with his hands. Frisk looked like they were about to cry. 

     Which meant you were the only one not currently freaking out. Amazing. 

     You huffed as you rose to your feet, walking over to Sans and placing a hand on his shoulder. His face snapped to yours, and it took everything in you not to flinch at how empty he looked. You inhaled, then squeezed his shoulder, barely. “You good?” 

     Something in your expression must have been enough to pull him back. He blinked once, then closed his eyes and slowly inhaled. When they opened again, the lights were back, though they were duller than normal. 

     “no.” He shrugged as he pulled his hood up over his head, “won’t be for a bit.” 

     You chewed on your bottom lip before nodding, “Would a hug help?” 

     Sans’ cheekbones turned a rather vibrant shade of blue. He burrowed a little further into the fuzz lining his hood, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “only if you want to.” 

     You smiled, barely, then pulled him in for a hug. Almost reluctantly, he wrapped his arms around your waist in return. That… that almost stung, but there were bigger things to worry about than your own feelings at the moment. Like how the rest of your friends were doing. You looked over at Frisk and Papyrus, and motioned them over. 

     “Come on, there’s room for a few more. I have a feeling we could all use a hug after that mess.” 

     Papyrus almost sobbed with relief - you forget how hard those emotions hit him. Frisk let out a shaky breath, but looked infinitely grateful as you opened your arms to them. You all stood like that for a minute, breathing and hopefully letting your friends come down from what was almost a terrifying encounter. 

     You winced as something very hot touched your leg. Oh, right, hadn’t you been helping a customer before Karen interrupted? A little vulkin --

     “Aaah… so… lovey!” 

★★★★★ 

     As much as you wanted to spend time with your friends, you really needed to be home after the mess of the last few weeks. You missed Fuku and Dahria, and your cat. There were things in your refrigerator that really needed to be eaten… 

     So obviously the logical solution was to invite everyone over for a potluck movie night. 

     And, if you were being honest, there were some things you needed to talk about with your circles. Hearing Frisk was a welcome development, for sure, but whatever that vision you had back in the shop was another thing entirely. The last thing you needed was to find yourself experiencing flashbacks and terrifying red smiles at odd times of the day.  It all seemed so familiar. It had taken you the better part of your walk home to make the connection - it was the Monster Prince and First Human from the story Sans had told you. The reason Monsters were trapped underground to begin with. So why were you seeing them in visions? 

     The better question probably was why you were having visions at all?

     Your phone beeped on the counter - Fuku and Dahria were about five minutes away. Another message popped up - Papyrus and Frisk were driving back with Toriel, at your request. You frowned, there was something in there about Sans going on ahead? 

     “you doing okay?” 

     You squeaked, turning on a dime and throwing your phone at the voice out of reflex. Thankfully, for a lazy guy Sans had better reflexes that most. Your phone was encased in a soft blue glow, hovering a few inches from the middle of his face. He leaned to one side, raising a brow bone at you. 

     “Holy macaroni, don’t sneak up on me like that!” You scolded, carefully taking your phone from the hold of his magic, “You scared me.” 

     “been standing here for a minute now, was wonderin’ if you were given’ me the cold shoulder.” 

      You shook your head, “No. Just… Lost in thought, I guess.” 

     Sans hummed, leaning back against the counter and tilting his head, “wanna talk ‘bout it?” 

     You hesitated, then grabbed an apple and motioned to the other room. Comfy chairs were better for this kind of conversation. Sans didn’t even bother to pretend he was going to walk with you, instead poofing directly into the seat he favored. 

     You took a bite out of your apple, mulling over exactly what to say. 

     “Remember when we first met them? Karen and her kid, um, Flowey? Or something?” You glanced at Sans, waiting for a reaction. 

     He was quick to correct you, “florent. but yeah. he seemed alright.” 

     You nodded, “Florent. That’s the name.” You took another bite, speaking around a mouthful, “Your eye did a thing before they left. It… it kind of changed colors? Like all of a sudden you had an actual iris in there, like one of mine-” you drew a little circle in the air between you with the tip of your finger, “A ring of color around a black pupil. Yellow and a really light blue. Cyan? Yeah, yellow and cyan. Then it stopped and we moved on like nothing happened.” 

     “i judged him.” Sans said. When he didn’t immediately elaborate you motioned for him to. He shifted in his seat with a sigh, “it’s magic. sparknotes version, it allows me to see them at their truest self. i see Who They Are.” 

     You hummed, “Is that all you see?” 

     “i get lv, hp, exp, some flavor text. why do you ask?” 

     You took another bite of your apple. That almost sounded like what you experienced - but you had a whole movie unfold before your eyes. No extra numbers or ‘flavor text,’ whatever that was. 

     There was a knock at your door, “Come in!” You shouted at the same time Sans’ eye flashed and the door swung open. Magical door opening skills. Amazing. Toriel stood in the doorway, regal as ever, with Papyrus and Frisk peeking around her shoulders. You saw a familiar green glow in the hallway behind them that told you Fuku was right behind them. You waved everyone in, pointing at the table for the various treats people brought as you continued talking to Sans. 

     “Something weird happened at the shop, before you guys arrived.”

     “I AM GLAD WE ARRIVED WHEN WE DID, HUMAN. I DO NOT LIKE THE IDEA OF YOU DEALING WITH THAT… THING… ALONE.” 

     You smiled, “Thanks, Paps. But I’ve done it before. I wish I could say she’s the worst I’ll ever deal with in retail, but…”

     Toriel shook her head in sympathy while Papyrusdecided to rhapsodize about how rude humans could be, present company excluded of course. Frisk was cozied right up to Fuku’s side, clearly still shaken from earlier and enjoying the warmth. Dahria was roasting a marshmallow over the flames that made up Fuku’s hair, more worried about a snack before the conversation. It was all so normal. 

     You liked this brand of normal. 

     Still, you were acutely aware of Sans and Toriel’s eyes on you, waiting for you to finish your thought. “I had been helping that Vulkin before she walked in and literally stepped over it. I said I’d be with her in a minute, she insisted, so I - em, I kind of was staring her down when everything just… Flashed? Yellow and green and purple, and it didn’t stop there.” You recounted the entire vision, taking bite of your apple between statements until you were holding the core in your hand. Even revisiting the moment, it all seemed so surreal. If it hadn’t been around so much magic, you’re not sure you would have even remembered it. Maybe you would have chalked it all up to a very vivid daydream. Or a nightmare evern. But Frisk was here and clearly disturbed and very curious by and about what you were recounting. Sans actually reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a little flip notebook, taking notes of what you described. He seemed fascinated. The rest were all attentive, not really having much to offer in the way of clarity until you had finished. 

     “--- and then, in the blackness this face appeared. Bright red. It… It smiled at me? And then I was back in the shop, staring down this lady-monster-demon-thing. And you guys showed up.” 

     The only sound that followed was the sound of Sans’ pencil scratching on his notepad. You were struck with the thought of how at home he would look in a lab coat, probably with glasses taped to the side of his skill, judging by the way he was squinting as he wrote. He did mention he had a few PhDs… Did they offer PhDs in Human Souls? You filed that train of thought away for later, instead turning your focus to Toriel. 

     Who was on the verge of crying - her golden eyes were shimmering with tears and paws covering her mouth. You blinked, suddenly way more concerned about whatever vision you had than you were before. She waved off your attempt to comfort her, instead wiping her eyes and taking a moment to compose herself. When the Queen finally spoke, she barely spoke above a whisper.

     “The event you are describing, though stylized, is the event that sparked the first war with Humanity. The even when my son-” her voice cracked on the word, “- and his adopted brother perished.” 

     You nodded, passing her the tissues you kept on the counter behind you, “I thought it sounded familiar, but why would I be seeing that?” 

_ We’ve been on the surface a while now _ , Frisk piped up,  _ And we… we might have left some stuff out of the whole story we told the world. There are currently three goat monsters on the surface.  _

     “Right. The Queen and King, Toriel and Asgore.” You frowned, “But who’s the third?” 

_ The third is my adopted brother and heir to the monster throne.  _

__ Every monster in the room spoke in time with Frisk, whispering the next name they spoke with a reverence and wonder that you and Dahria wished you could understand. 

_ Asriel. Prince of the Underground. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are ready! This kicks off the main plot for this fic, slowly but surely. Should have another update for you all within the week! 
> 
> Join the Discord! >>https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH <<  
> You get sneak peeks, various JPEGS I make to keep the muse flowing, and to harass me about the next chapter and keep me on course for the next update. 
> 
> Leave me comments! They keep me going! <3


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What makes up your Soul? What actually happened when you Saw everything about Karen? And what happens when you See Sans?

     “I thought the prince died ages ago?” You’re stunned, unable to keep the shock and confusion off your face and out of your tone, “What do you mean, he’s still alive?” 

     Fuku shook her head, little green sparks flying with the movement, “It’s some serious Soul Magic that a lot of monsters don’t really understand. Humans still have issues accepting different skin tones, you really think they’re gonna accept a long-lost-prince back from the dead?” 

_ Especially since the First Human didn’t return, just the Prince.  _ Frisk piped up. 

     You shook your head, “I mean, that’s valid and all, but how do you even keep something like that a secret? Never mind the why, there are hundreds of monsters, more, now that you’re on the surface. How do they just, keep quiet?” 

     Toriel took the reins of the conversation, explaining that, after the Prince returned, he went through a great many changes in a very short time. For every year Frisk’s body aged, Asriel ages three or four. By the time Monsters were finally released from their quarantine the Prince was, essentially, grown. 

     “Which is beyond abnormal, seeing as Asgore and I are Boss Monsters. In its most basic explanation, without a child we do not age. Once we had Asriel, Asgore and I began to age beyond our prime. He was young when he… When that event happened. He was no longer present, and we did not age.” She wiped her hands along her lap, smoothing out the skirt of her hand-knitted purple dress. Toriel hesitated, “I am still unsure what exactly happened to bring him back to us.” 

_ Mom and Dad haven’t aged since he returned, but Asriel has. He hit the human equivalent of 27 and plateaued.  _ Frisk signed,  _ That means he no longer needs their magic. He’s his own Boss Monster.  _

__ You shook your head and stood to go back into the kitchen - you needed a beverage if you were going to keep discussing this. You grabbed your drink of choice from the fridge, calling over your shoulder as you moved, “Okay? So he’s a grown monster with his own source of magic.” 

_ He’s really tall and skinny. Exceptionally scruffy for a goat. His beard is nowhere near as cool as Dad’s.   _ Frisk was teasing, it was obvious the two of them are close. Were close? 

__ You slipped back into your chair, sipping your drink and mulling everything over. 

     One: Asriel was the Prince of the Underground. And he died. But was back alive. 

     Two: With the personal magic source and the aging, that meant he couldn’t claim his title without arousing suspicion from humanity, worst-case scenario maybe even restarting the war because the First Human wasn’t restored. 

     Three: Creepy Karen was a thing. A very real, very bad, demonic thing that you still had no idea what it wanted. Though you, personally, had a vague idea of who. 

     Four: You still needed to tell someone you understood Frisk, without the Monster Phone (which was currently placed in the middle of the coffee table, translation the signs for Dahria.) 

     Five: You needed a nap. 

     “I realize that this does not help explain your vision.” Toriel spoke up, “but I think my partner may be able to help.” 

     “the king?” Sans sounded skeptical, it was all too easy to imagine him peering at Toriel through a pair of glasses, “what’s ol’ fluffybuns gonna know about this?”

     Toriel smiled softly, “He is older than I. He knew many human mages before the War, even helped to train a handful, if my memory serves.” 

     You nodded, “Okay, so, an audience with the King. No biggie, right?” 

     You did not sound as convincing as you hoped you would. Your voice shook with nerves, and you were beginning to develop a headache from all this information being dumped on you at once. In your defense, it was quite a lot. Even though Toriel didn’t say those exact words, it sounded like she just offered her partner up to give you some magic training. 

     Magic training. In a species that hadn’t had magic for hundreds of years. 

     Delightful. 

     You felt someone place a hand on your knee. Bony fingers gave you a comforting squeeze, looking at you with concern in his eye lights. For someone who seemed to smile all the time, it almost looked like he was frowning, the tops of his eye sockets tilted downwards in his version of crinkled eyebrows. That ever-present grin on his face seems tentative, but it’s more present than it was before. It’s… it’s grounding. 

     You swallow, and nod, “I’m good. It’s just a lot to take in.” 

     “i bet.” he murmurs. His thumb moves in a sweeping motion on the inside of your knee and it is a concentrated effort not to let yourself blush. Judging by the heat on top of your ears, you’re only mildly successful. “what d’you need more on?” 

     “All of it,” You say with a laugh, “I know that’s the worst answer I can give… there’s a lot of information and I’m going to need time to let it.. uh, marinate, I guess.” 

     Sans gives you a funny look at your word choice, but nods. He gives one last squeeze before pulling his hand back, leaving the space it occupied strangely cold. 

     You swallow, “Um. For now, why didn’t Asriel stay with you guys?” You direct the question at Toriel, then Frisk, “I mean, he’s family. From what I’ve seen monsters tend to stay in their family groups now that they’re on the surface.” 

     The Queen bowed her head, “I… I am unclear on that myself. I know he came to dinner one night ecstatic about a new human friend and a band they intended to start. He grew more distant, forgetting dinner, forgetting to call… then he stopped coming home” 

_ He left a note on the kitchen table.  _ Frisk said, quietly,  _ Didn’t even bother to say goodbye in person.  _

     That left a somber note in the air, Papyrus was quietly playing solitaire with Fuku and Dahria in an attempt to let everything that needed to be said get said. You watched the three of them play, Dahlia excitedly asking Papyrus questions about any and everything in between turns. Honestly, you were surprised she hadn’t been asking more questions. A story about the reborn monster prince would give her everything she needed and more to follow her dream out of this small town and into a bigger city with a better newspaper. She shook her head as Papyrus made a move that would end the game, catching it before he took his phalanges off the card and correcting it. He was thrilled with the new knowledge, and you smiled. 

     That was why she wasn’t asking more questions. She knew how important this was to your whole friend group. It could destroy Monster-Human relations and even start another war. Dahlia was smart, she saw that. 

     There wouldn’t be a story about the monster prince anytime soon. 

     “I have one other question slash confession,” You made eye contact with Frisk, rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment, “If, for instance, someone were to… oh, I dunno, suddenly start being able to hear Frisk the same way you guys do, what would that take?” 

     You felt the eyes of everyone land on you - though you were most aware of Frisk’s dumbfound expression and the profound curiosity touched with excitement in Sans’ eye sockets. 

     “It would take a profound act of compassion to create a bond,” Toriel said with a half-grin, “A level of understanding would have to be reached between the two for something like that to snap into place, especially since now their Soul has settled and not the vibrant little beacon it was when Frisk first fell Underground,” Toriel ruffled her child’s hair at that, which pulled a defiantly stuck-out tongue from Frisk as they pulled away. “We could create that connection right away. For it to happen up here... “

_ You did something that… look, I’m never going to be able to thank you enough for restoring my guitar. It’s the same instrument, mostly, but there’s so much more life in it! It wants to make music, not just be played.  _ Frisk muttered as they fixed their hair (Frankly, you couldn’t tell the difference between before and after, but whatever.)  _ When did you star Listening?  _

__ You opened your mouth to answer, only to be cut off by Sans. 

     “it was right after the music, wasn’t it?” He said. You were surprised by the amount of excitement, “i knew it. i  _ knew _ you were listening! how does your soul feel? any heavier in your chest? can i see--” 

     “Sans, I don’t think now’s the time to grill her,” Fuku spoke, “Especially about Soul stuff.” She waggled the green flames where her eyebrows would be. That seemed to stop Sans’ stream of questions right in their tracks as he turned bright blue.

     You made a mental note to ask Fuku what on earth that phrasing meant later. 

     “Tell you what,” Fuku slid over next to you, “I’ll give my doc a call and set up an appointment. That way you can ask an actual professional about all this.” 

     Sans crossed his arms, “i am a professional.” 

     Was he pouting? 

     You barely suppressed a snicker, “No offense, but I really don’t think ‘professional’ is a word I’d use to describe you.” 

     “IT’S TRUE, SANS. I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER SEEN YOU IN ANYTHING OTHER THAN THAT RATTY HOODIE AND OLD SLIPPERS. A  _ TRUE _ PROFESSIONAL WEARS A SUIT AND TIE! OR PERHAPS A LAB COAT.” 

     That did it. The group burst into various degrees of laughter at that. Sans’ cheekbones were still vibrantly blue. He laughed along with you all, rubbing at the top of his skull. Toriel’s laughter ended sooner than the rest, sharing a knowing look with Sans that definitely shared some hidden meaning. 

     “Heheheh, oh, I dunno,” You wiped a tear from your eye, “I can see Sans rockin' a lab coat. Something tells me he’s a little bit nerdier than he lets on.” 

       “Oh, my child, you have no idea.” Toriel let loose another peel of laughter. 

     The rest of the evening was spent on much lighter topics, laughing at various movies and answering way too many questions from Frisk, especially now that they knew you could hear them from across the room without your phone. 

     Once you moved to the floor, it gave Sans and Toriel room to chat. 

     “You very nearly propositioned her in front of the entire group.” Toriel murmured, “In front of your Queen.” 

     “yeah, yeah, laugh it up, tori,” sans muttered, “don’t tell me you aren’t curious too.”

     “Curious yes. Enough to ask to see her Soul in front of my brother?” 

     Sans glared at her. She mimed zipping her lips shut, but did not lose the amused light in her eyes. He sighed, pulling his hood up over his skull and sinking into his chair a little further. Yeah, the whole situation was beyond intriguing. A human experiencing something so close to his own Judgement, and then learning to Listen to Frisk’s Soul speaking? It was beyond remarkable. He hadn’t heard of anything like that happening in modern times - in fact, he hadn’t heard of anything like this since he worked with his father in----- since he worked in the Lab. 

     Part of him was itching to hook you up to old machines and see what your Soul was made of, what made it tick, what allowed you to Listen and Judge after hundreds of years without magic. 

     The other part knew that if he did that, he might end up like his father-----

     ----- like the old Royal Scientist. 

     There was a dull throbbing in his head, enough to make him close his eyes and breathe. He still didn’t have an answer for why his head hurt every time he thought of the former Royal Scientistwith any other words than those. That project had been on the back burner for the longest time. It might be time to start working on that again - or, maybe it was smarter to worry about one project at a time. The Scientist wasn’t going anywhere, but you…

     You were his friend. A friend going through something insane that you were taking remarkably well, on the outside. But if anyone knew how easy it was to hide panic with a smile, it was Sans. 

     He felt his token smile flatten out, just a tad, as he watched you. Now that he was paying attention and watching for something, there definitely was a different light in your eyes, the smiles seemed just this side of forced, and for every hug or high five offered by your friends, it seemed you leaned a little further back from their touch. 

     Yeah, outside you were fine. Inside you were having some issues. 

     The Scientist could wait a little longer, Sans hadn’t forgotten and he wouldn’t forget. There was someone much closer, someone still on this plane of existence that needed his help more. He would be there to give it when you were ready. 

     He could be patient. 

★★★★★ 

     “I-I-I’m happy to help, it’s the least I can d-do after you helped Frisk.” 

     “Thanks, Alphys.” You shifted in your seat, “I seriously appreciate it.” 

     She waved a clawed hand at you as she rifled through a cabinet, “N-no problem. This is what I do best. S-S-Souls and their idiosyncrasies are my speciality,” She made a little sound as she discovered what she was looking for and scurried over to you, “Here, put these scrubs on. They’re clean and magic resistant, so any residual magic from you or Fuku or m-m-myself shouldn’t show up in the scanner.” 

     You sighed and eyes the folding screen in the corner. At least you knew why that was there now. You rose and moved to change, going back over what exactly Fuku had brought you here for. 

     Turns out Monsters didn’t get sick in the same way humans did. They rarely got sick at all, in fact. If anything was off, it showed in their Souls, and almost all of their ailments could be cured by adding a little extra magic. All except Falling Down…

     Apparently, Alphys had some experience in that department too, but when you had asked Fuku to elaborate, she hadn’t been willing to give you any more than “It doesn’t matter, what’s important is Alphys can help.” 

    You heard Alphys call your name as you pulled the shirt over your head, “E-everything okay? I’ve got the equipment ready whenever you are.” 

     A Soul Doctor was a very new experience for you. 

     “Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You stepped out around the screen, “Can you go over this one more time? Hoping it will help with some nerves.” 

     She nodded, guiding you to stand in a specific spot as she spoke, “Human’s haven’t had m-magic for the longest time. Hundreds of years, a-a-actually. Listening to Frisk and experiencing something so similar to Sans’ Judgement requires some magic. I’m going to scan you, it’ll tell me what traits make up your Soul, how much m-magic there is, and hopefully, anything else t-that might be wrong.” 

     You swallowed, “Soul traits?” 

     Alphys looked at you over the top of her half-moon glasses, “Did Fuku not tell you any of this?” 

     “Nothing about Soul traits,” You smiled meekly, “I’m human, half of us don’t even believe in Souls, and if you try to tell the other half anything other than what they believe you’re gonna start a war.”

     Alphys blinked, then tilted her head back like she was muttering to some higher power who could give her strength, “H-humans. I’ll never understand  _ h-how  _ you managed to create the Barrier when you can be so… s-so….” She couldn’t find the word and just groaned. 

     You stood there in boring hospital scrubs, a fake grin plastered on your face. 

     She glanced at you, then returned to her calibrations, “Tell you what, this will be easier with a visual. Hold as still as you can, this will take a few minutes.” Alphys pushed a few buttons, “There’s going to be a few flashes of light, to make sure we’re reading on the right frequency, then it’ll start really bright and slowly fade down as it actually takes a reading. Stiller is better, but some movement is okay. Ready? Here--”

     “♫ I know what I have to do now! It's my life one and only! ♫”

     You blinked, “Is… is that one of the BNHA themes?” 

     A steady red blush blossomed on her cheekbones, nodding before motioning to hang on while she took the phone call, “I-i-it’s a good s-song! H-hang on, it’s Undyne.” She stepped back, gesturing to let you know you could relax until she was done. 

     “H-hey sweetie. Can this w-wait a minute? I’m in the middle of some c-c-calibrations.... Oh. Um. I’m not sure. I c-c-can always ask and see?”

     You pulled out your phone, trying your best not to listen in on the conversation. 

**[you, 10:33]** **  
** **I have a question that is more serious than not.**

**IF it turns out I’ve got some weird magic stuff going on…**

**What happens then?**

**[Mr. Funny Bones, 10:34]** **  
** **thats a big if kiddo**

**dunno. only other humn w/ magic is frisk**

**[you, 10:34]** **  
** **So I’m an anomaly? Delightful.**

**[Mr. Funny Bones, 10:34]** **  
** **ur best frnd is a fire elemental. u were alrdy weird**

**[you, 10:34]** **  
** **(:**

**[Mr. Funny Bones, 10:35]** **  
** **srsly tho, idk what will happen.**

**tori prob wont do much - mandatory magic training at most**

**flufflybuns is harder 2 please.**

**[you, 10:35]** **  
** **Fluffybuns?**

**[Mr. Funny Bones, 10:35]** **  
** **king asgore**

**[you, 10:35]** **  
** **I haven’t even met the guy!!! It’s been 100+ yrs, I’m not** **  
** **gonna impresión you all Underground. I don’t even** **  
** **know what’s going on!!!!**

**Is all this nervous energy going to mess up Dr. Alphys’s** **  
** **scans?**

**[Mr. Funny Bones, 10:35]** **  
** **she’s got u hooked up 2 her scanner????**

**[you, 10:36]** **  
** **Yeah.**

**[you, 10:37]** **  
** **Sans?**

     “A-alright, I’ll see you after w-work,” Alphys was coming back over to you, “L-love you. Bye!” She hung up walking up to where you were seated, “S-sorry about that. If I don’t answer s-she has this habit of b-busting down the door. I d-don’t want to replace another one.” 

     “No worries! You gotta do what you gotta do, right?”  You hoped the cheer in your voice wasn’t as phony as it felt. That and the smile. 

     It seemed you weren’t fooling anyone today, judging by the sympathetic look Alphys gave you. You sighed, relaxing your shoulders and pushing yourself out of the chair. Might as well get this over with. Two minutes of bright lights and you would be fine. Maybe even have an answer! That was good. Answers were good. 

     You just wished your stomach wasn’t tossing and turning as much as it was. 

     “Okay, I’m all s-set. Are you ready?” Bless her, Alphys was trying so hard to keep you calm. You gave her a shaky smile and a thumbs up. 

     Thankfully, the actual exam was fairly painless. The bright lights hurt the first time, but after a few flashes, you were able to just keep your eyes closed and breathe through it all. In a weird way, it was kind of calming? Like how some people fell asleep while getting an MRI. There was nothing to do but close your eyes and wait it out. Two minutes felt way more like an hour, but time stretched when you were stuck stationary like that. 

     “Hmm.. Well, it l-looks like you’ve got a p-perfectly normal human Soul.” Alphys muttered, her eyes darting over the screen in front of her as she read over whatever the scan had revealed, “I would have thought y-you were more of a Justice or Kindness based Soul, but Perseverance seems to be your dominant trait --”

     “I don’t know what that means.” You remind her, “I don’t know what any of this means.” 

     Alphys sighed, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand, “Of c-course! My bad. Here, c-come look at this with me.” 

     You stepped forward, looking at the screen. There were a whole lot of colors, and some text in a language you didn’t recognize… The screen was dominated by a heart in the middle, filled with various colors that seemed to swirl and pulse as Alphys explained everything to you. 

     “Okay, so this here is your Soul. And on the s-side here are the seven major Soul Traits- s-some people say these are the only ones, but that seems s-silly to me. Seven billion people and there’s only  _ s-seven  _ major traits?” She scoffed, “But t-that’s not the point. See this patch of purple h-here? That color is Perseverance. Green is the second largest color segment, that stands for Kindness. Looks like Justice and Patience are almost neck and neck, too.” She’s careful to point out each slice of the pie that makes up your soul as she speaks. Your brain hurts trying to read the stuff that isn’t in English. 

     “What’s this box here? LV and EXP?”

     “s’your stats.” 

     You flinch and yelp away from the voice for a moment, before turning and glaring at the skeleton it came from. He’s actually dressed, for once. Well, dressed for him, anyway. Proper jeans and sneakers pair nicely with a black t-shirt. He looks almost naked without the signature hoodie. Alphys just groans and glances you out of the corner of her eye. 

     “You told him I was scanning you?” 

     Your only answer is a shrug and half a laugh. When the glare doesn’t stop, you find yourself elaborating before you have a moment to think about who you were talking to. “I was nervous! And you were on the phone with Undyne!”

     The glare turns into something thoughtful, then downright gleeful, “A-a-and you t-t-texted  _ Sans _ before anyone else?!”

     “...Yes?”

     Her eyes sparkle. You are very lost as to why that fact is eye-sparkle-worthy. Sans still has not taken his eyes off the screen. 

     “perseverance? really? i totally thought it was justice…” 

     Alphys throws her hands in front of the screen, blocking as much of the information as possible, “H-hey! Doctor-patient confidentiality! No lab coat, no s-scan results!” 

     Why did she wink at you?

     Sans sighs, but trudges over to one of the many cabinets on the other side of the room. He opens one, pulls a long sheet of white fabric out of it, and shakes it out. There’s a little bit of dust that poofs off. It’s not until he’s shrugging it on that you realize it was a lab coat. Embroidered above the breast pocket was his name (though it was spelled  _ Snas _ ) and a pair of circular glasses with a thin wireframe. 

     Oh. 

     He just  _ had _ to put the glasses on, didn’t he? He just  _ had _ to have a lab coat sitting in the room. He just  _ haaaaaaaaaaaad _ to get into such a focused frame of mind that you found yourself imagining ---

     NOPE. 

     You would have to reprimand Alphys later. And maybe thank her. 

     Sans held his hands out to the side and spun in place, “happy? can i see now?” 

     Alphys glanced at you, noted the red on your face, and nodded. Sans wasted no time getting up close to the screen, muttering things to himself as he looked over the results. 

     “mmm… did you do a magic scan?” 

     “N-not yet. I wanted to be sure we had something of a base before we did. I was going to see if s-she was willing to try and induce another Judgement and s-scan during that.” 

     Sans nodded, then turned to you. 

     “Um. Does my Soul really look like that?” You asked, wringing your fingers together, “I thought it would be more… glowy?”

     “yes and no,” Sans shrugged, pushing his glasses a little further up his face, “it’s heart-shaped, fur sure. it’s not a fun swirl of these colors though. it’s probably purple, maybe with some green. hard to say for sure.”

     “Can… Can I see it for real?” 

     Alphys slapped her hands over her mouth to (unsuccessfully) disguise a snort and a gasp - she ended up coughing. Sans looked like a deer in headlights. Then he reminded you of a blueberry. 

     “ummmmm…”

     Alphys waved him off, standing on her tiptoes to mutter something in your ear.  You turned beat red at the realization, laughing and stepping back from the monsters as you tried to put some space between the three of you. 

     “Anyway! Second scan! Let's do that!” You were already back in position, behind the scanner. How were you supposed to know asking to see your Soul was basically asking for assistance masturbating? They don’t teach you those things in school! Or even in any online Monster-centric course. 

     “S-sure thing!” Alphys picked right up on your discomfort, but she made no effort to hide her grin as she set about pushing buttons and reading the scanner, “I’m going to have Sans watch the scan this time if that’s alright with you?”

     You’re about to agree with her when Sans cuts you off. 

     “nope. you’re her doctor, you get to watch the scan. i can always look at the results later,” He motions Alphys over to take his place. The two of them bicker for a moment before Sans asks her a question that stops any objections Alphys might have had right in their tracks. The two of them share a look, before Sans shuffles over to stand in front of you. 

     “alright, you ready?” 

     You hesitate, “I don’t even know how it happened last time.”

    “that’s what i’m here for,” His voice is calm, soothing almost. “i used to do this all the time, not so much now that we’re on the surface.” 

     “But you have magic. You’ve been using magic all your life. I don’t even know-”

     He holds up a hand to silence you, “doubts aren’t your friend right now. you can do this.” 

     Sans says it with such conviction that you have no choice but to believe him. In fact, the confidence in his eyes fills you with, well, with something. You’re determined not to let him down. 

     “How?” 

     His ever-present smile turns soft. Without words, he points two fingers at his eye sockets, and then turns them around on you. “look right here, and breathe.” 

     You do. A fuzz makes its way to the edge of your vision, blurring it with lines of green, purple, and light blue. Just like before. The scanner starts beeping somewhere in the background, and you’re dimly aware of Alphys muttering to herself before---

     Huh. 

     You never looked him in the eyes before. Never looked closely at his eye sockets. They’re not just shadowed as you had assumed, they’re actually black. A void with a single prick of light to guide you forward, deeper and deeper until you find yourself standing below a platform lit with a single spotlight. Standing on it are three figures with their backs to you. One tall and skinny, another shorter and stout, and a third on the end, proportioned like a toddler with red mittens and an orange coat that contrasts sharply with the clean white lab coats of the other two. You’re struck with the sudden knowledge that you’ve met two of the skeletons before - It’s Sans and Papyrus when they were small. But who was the third? 

     You’re supplied with a name that makes your head hurt and the sight before you glitch. It almost fades out before you force the name from your mind and focus on the events happening on the pedestal before you. The three skeletons (They all have to be skeletons, you’ve decided. The tallest has to be their parent.) shift seamlessly from one tableau to the next. 

     The first being Sans holding Papyrus in his arms, like a baby, while the third figure turns his back on them, absorbed in whatever was on the clipboard in their hands. Next, Sans is holding Papyrus’ hand with one of his, and a clipboard in his other. The third figure stands with his hands on their shoulders, chin held high and proud at their children. Papyrs grows before your eyes, brandishing a bone in one hand while Sans flaps his cape behind him. The third figure - their dad, you realize - is on his back in surrender, laughing at the game. 

     Then the tone changes. Sans is in an apron, making dinner for him and his brother. Their dad pays them no mind, stuck in some world in the clipboard. Then Sans is arguing with his father, wearing glasses and a lab coat - Papyrus is nowhere to be seen. There’s a new tableau where Sans’ clipboard is on the ground and he’s in the process of removing the labcoat, walking with purpose and pain on his face back to his younger brother (who is now much much taller than him) while his father… 

     Time slows even further, you watch as their father panics, pushing buttons and yelling things over his shoulder. You see Sans sprinting back to help - and then the spotlight goes out. 

     You’re left in blackness for a moment before it slowly fades back on. 

     Their father is nowhere to be seen. Instead, Sans and Papyrus stand tall, as you know them now. Papyrus in his battle body, with a bowl under one arm and a chef’s hat hanging from his head. Sans in his hoodie and slippers, with piles and piles of books and scientific articles behind him. 

     Papyrus steps away. Leaving only Sans as you watch the expression on his face change from content to confused to grief to horror to rage to grief to sorrow to resentment to hopeful to hopeless to grief to anger to hope… to happiness… to… to… 

     You can’t think of a name for the emotion on his face. It fills your own heart with hope to the brim. It’s beautiful, it’s overwhelming, it….

     You’re crying. 

     You blink away the sudden tears as reality filters back in around you. You’re in the lab, in scrubs while Alphys examines your Soul. Sans is staring across from you ---

     ----Looking at you with the kind of wonder in his eyes you only read about in stories. 

     You wipe your face, smiling at him. The smile he returns is a little dopey but genuine. 

     “Soul Gazing!” Alphys yells. The sound tears Sans’ gaze from yours and back to the screen. “It’s just as described in the old notes, Sans. She’s not Judging anyone, she’s Soul Gazing them.” 

     “i thought that was a load of bologna,” Sans mutters, but he frowns and nods once he’s read the screen, “but apparently not. congrats, kiddo, you’ve got some magic.” 

     “Some?” You step forward, “How much is some?” 

     “not enough to float or attack or anything like that. but enough to See someone without laying them bare.” He elaborates, writing a few things down on his clipboard, “my Judgement forces someone’s Soul out, and I read their stats. LV, HP, EXP. based on the numbers i see there, i decide what a proper sentence is,” He blinks, “err, i used to. anyway. haven’t felt the pull to Judge someone in a few years now.”

     “So what does that mean?”

     Alphys took over, “I-it means that you see who someone is, what made them that way! Y-you get all the backstory that m-makes them who they a-a-are! W-what did you see in Sans i’m dying to know I’m so curious-”

     “Em. Not much I didn’t already know.” You rub the back of your neck, thinking back on what you felt while looking at him, “What you see is what you get. There’s a shitload of magic in there,” You gesture to his sternum, “but he saves it. That… That’s as much as I think is safe to say.” 

     Alphys hums. Sans looks a little blue. You inhale and rest a tentative hand on his shoulder, “I’m… I’m sorry about your dad. I… Remembering his name hurts, but he was important to you. I’m sorry he can’t be here to see the surface.” 

     He blinks at you, eye sockets with and the lights in his eyes a little larger and fuzzier than normal. 

     You cough, then step back. Maybe that was out of line? 

     Just when you think he can’t surprise you anymore, Sans steps forward and hugs you. He hides his face in you, and you can feel the shaky exhale as he squeezes you tight. You squeeze him back, and feel more than hear his quiet “thank you.” 

     Alphys knows when to give people some space. She steps back to the machine, tapping away and sending a few things to someone - you, you realize, when your phone buzzes back on the chair. The sound gives Sans a chance to compose himself and step away, fixing his glasses and not quite making eye contact with you. 

     “I s-sent you the readings. You can g-go over them and ask me any questions at any t-time. But I think that’s enough excitement for one d-day.” She says, hanging her lab coat up on a chair. She was wearing a polka-dotted dress underneath, smoothing out the skirt of it with a shy smile, “I have a d-date to make, anyway.”

     You slip behind the changing screen from earlier and slip back into your street clothes. Sans and Alphys have a light conversation, filling the time and space until you were ready. Sans offers to teleport you home, which you gladly accept. Alphys asks for a lift too, and before you can say “Sure!” you find yourself in her living room. 

     Where Undyne, Papyrus, and Frisk are all set up with their instruments. They don’t even blink when the three of you magically appear in the space, rather, they all look like they’ve been expecting you. 

     “You!” Undyne points at you, “I want to thank you! A lot!” 

     “You’re welcome?” You glance at Frisk for an explanation, but they just smile at you and play a few more little riffs on their refurbished guitar, “Uh, what for?” 

     “FOR FIXING FRISK’S GUITAR! THEY’VE BEEN SO HAPPY TO HAVE IT BACK! AND CAN’T WAIT TO PLAY ACTUAL SHOWS AGAIN!” Papyrus leaps to his feet and envelopes you in a bone-crushing hug. “THEY WANT TO COMPETE!” 

     You pat the larger skeletons back, “Compete in what?”

     Papyrus drops you back to your own feet with a  _ whoomph _ , and shares an excited look with Undyne before the two of them speak loud enough you’re pretty sure they burst your eardrums. 

     “IN THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS OF COURSE!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE YOU GO! I'm a day late, as usual, and I'm sorry about that. But I hope this chapter makes up for it! I've finally laid all the groundwork, so we're FINALLY going to start the main story arc! I'm excited, and I hope you guys are too! 
> 
> As always, don't forget to leave me a comment! They really help with inspiration to keep this thing going. 
> 
> Join the Discord! >>https://discord.gg/6qPhPeH <<

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to point out grammar or musical things I've gotten incorrect, and how to correct them! 
> 
> Comments are appreciated. See you in a few weeks!


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